Misfire of Global Proportions
by Zoop
Summary: Part 1 of Out of All Proportions. What if the 10th & 11th Walkers were delivered to the wrong address? Sandy and Brie get thrown from a car straight into Middle Earth and land on a pack of misfit Uruk-hai still shaken from the Flooding of Isengard. COMPLETE
1. Arrival on Platform ME 3019

A/N: Largely bookverse with the exception of the manner of Uruk-hai gestation and birth, which is movieverse. Dates/events each "morning" are derived from the Interactive Calendar on the website, Encyclopedia of Arda (www . glyphweb arda / dates . html - remove spaces from link), using the modern Gregorian date conversion.

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><p><strong>Arrival on Platform ME 3019<strong>

_February 25, 3019 – Isengard was destroyed two days past; Frodo and Sam reach the Morannon; Gandalf expels Saruman from the Order; Merry and Pippin rejoin what remains of the Fellowship_

The last thing Morkoth expected that afternoon as he relieved himself against a tree was to be knocked on his ass by a flying woman. No, he hadn't expected the strange window to open up in the air beside him either, but the shock of that anomaly was overshadowed by the figure that emerged, three feet above the ground, covered in blood, and striking him in the abdomen with the force of a charging aurochs bull. That would have been enough, as he struggled to get out from under the human female's loose-limbed, unconscious body, except that mere seconds later another form tumbled through behind. Apparently satisfied with the completion of its task, the glowing hole in the air slammed shut with a _schwup_. Morkoth froze, staring at the place where it had been, seemingly unaffected by being ripped open for a few seconds and hastily mended. Then he looked at the woman still draped over his lap.

Her head was cut to pieces; lacerations covered the scalp, and blood ran in rivers down her face, turned up to the sky. Her eyes were fluttering open, though how she could still be alive he had no idea. When her eyes opened a bit and shifted toward him, they flared open in shock, her jaw worked soundlessly for a few seconds, then her eyes rolled back into her head and she went limp.

The other figure was also female, he could see from where he sat, but she didn't seem to be as bad off. At least, until he extricated himself and looked closely at her. The woman's left arm was so badly bruised, he suspected it might be broken, and her forehead was darkening with the beginnings of another huge bruise. She, too, was unconscious.

The big Uruk looked around. There didn't appear to be anyone else around, including bodies flung through mysterious holes in the air, other than himself and the two women. Squatting down beside the woman who fell on him, he tilted his head to examine her more closely. He reached out and poked the side of her head. Licked the blood that smeared on his clawed finger. Well, she was real, and about as normal as his cursory examination could tell.

Lifting a lock of her hair, he rubbed it between his fingers. It was the color of molten copper, unlike any he'd ever seen. Bracing his legs, he gathered the woman in his arms and lifted her up. Nûrzgrat would know what to do.

The camp of Uruk-hai wasn't far away, and Morkoth's long strides brought him there ten minutes later. Five bestial heads rose at his arrival.

Nûrzgrat frowned. "Whatcha got there?"

"She's hurt," Morkoth replied, taking the woman straight to him and laying her gently beside the group's chief. "There's another one. I'll be back."

"Wait, where'd they come from?" Nûrzgrat asked. His only answer was the silent shrug of his second. Rolling his eyes, he looked down at the woman.

"Is that...," a trembling, uncertain voice said at his elbow. "Human?"

"Looks like."

The speaker squeaked in terror and scampered into the nearest bush. Nûrzgrat ignored him.

The initial shock began to wear off, and the other Uruk-hai closed in to look at Morkoth's discovery.

"Frû," the chief growled, "get to work." The Uruk in question grunted but didn't move. "Now!"

"Don't wanna touch it," he grumbled as he grudgingly fetched bandages.

"Delicious," another Uruk hissed, licking his lips and leaning close to the female. The scent of her blood was intoxicating. He dove down and drew his tongue sloppily across the unconscious woman's cheek. Furious, Nûrzgrat shot a fist out and sent the other Uruk flying.

"Get your fucking paws off her, Nûlkol! She belongs to Morkoth." He glanced once more at the woman, then stepped aside to let Frû tend her. "_And_ you," he snarled at a smaller Uruk approaching. Thakûf's eyebrows rose, then he shrugged and retreated.

Standing behind Frû with his arms crossed, Nûrzgrat glowered at his other charges. Only one hadn't approached, taking advantage of his fellows' preoccupation to snatch a few strips of meat before retreating to his hidey hole. The Uruk leader shook his head.

"Ghrulagûrz," he said. The foraging Uruk froze. "Don't go too far." Without looking at Nûrzgrat, the Uruk jerked his chin in a brief nod and scuttled away with his prize.

Nûrzgrat glanced toward the bushes, noting the almost comical shaking of the branches as Razkaar trembled. Scowling, he turned his gaze skyward and wondered yet again what great power had cursed him so.

Before long, Morkoth returned, the other female in his arms. He was even more careful with setting her down next to the first one, for her arm was severly bruised. Standing beside Nûrzgrat, he watched Frûmâdûrz finish the copper-headed woman and turn to binding the dark-haired woman's arm.

"All right, talk," the chief growled.

"Went to piss, door opened, females fell out." He didn't see any reason to fully describe the impact the first one had on him.

Nûrzgrat's lip curled and he took a deep breath, letting it out on a count of five. Years of association with the taciturn Uruk made him somewhat resigned to this economy of speech, but it didn't mean he liked it. "A door? What the fuck does that mean? We're as far from anything with a door as we can get."

"In the air. Just... in the air," Morkoth replied, gesturing helplessly with both hands. Then he shrugged.

"Anyone around?"

Silent shaking of the head.

"Females," Nûrzgrat muttered thoughtfully. "That would help."

Noncommittal grunt.

The chief scrutinized his second. "Which one you want?"

Morkoth's eyebrows rose and he turned to his leader with surprise. "What for?"

"Don't be stupid, boy," Nûrzgrat snapped. "Look around you. This is it. We got no choice. There ain't no more Uruk-hai. If we're gonna survive, we gotta be like _snaga_."

The bigger Uruk scowled. "I'm not raping anyone."

"Fine, whatever," the chief said. "Take one as a mate, then. That's a _snaga_ way, too. Which one d'you like?"

"I'm a warrior," Morkoth protested. "Don't know about... females. Mating."

"Do your duty, boy," Nûrzgrat snarled. "Pick."

Shrugging, Morkoth gestured toward the redhead.

"Good," Nûrzgrat said approvingly. "She looks strong. Good hips. Any ideas about the other one?"

"I'm not taking both," Morkoth warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it," the chief growled sarcastically. "Other one's kinda skinny. Frû'll probably break her."

"If you're expecting me to take a fucking mate, you're smokin' _Sharkû's_ pipeweed," Frûmâdûrz snorted, wiping his hands on his pants as if they were covered in filth. Standing, Frû shook his head. "Got no use for whiteskin females but one," he leered. "Once that's done, so am I."

Nûrzgrat shrugged, turning to his second. "He's got a point..."

"No," Morkoth said firmly. "They're not spoils. They're not warriors. We dishonor our people if we hurt them."

"Fine," Nûrzgrat grumbled. "I'll give her to Ghrulagûrz. Nothing'll happen there till I figure out what to do with her."

"Give her to me," Nûlkol hissed, once more slithering toward the women. "I'll be...gentle."

Grimacing, Morkoth rounded on Nûlkol and delivered what was becoming a routine ass-kicking. It wasn't even fun anymore.

While Nûrzgrat's attention was focused on the always-entertaining spectacle of his second putting the smaller Uruk in his place, Thakûf sidled up to the redheaded woman and started removing her bloody clothing.


	2. Wakie, Wakie, Sunshine

**Wakie, Wakie, Sunshine**

Sandy's head was splitting. She couldn't remember the details, only that Jake had tried to keep them from colliding head-on with an SUV visibly determined to intercept their compact car. Apparently, it hadn't worked.

As awareness began to return, she heard strange punching sounds and guttural, barking laughter. She felt hands fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.

Wrenching herself awake, Sandy batted at the hands. The face she saw shocked her too much to scream. Gasping, she hauled herself up and scooted backwards away from the thing, setting her head spinning for a moment. It cocked its head at her curiously, apparently surprised by her reaction. Then she noticed it wasn't the only one there.

An even bigger creature was drawing a fist back to deliver a mighty blow to a smaller one it was straddling on the ground. Another was standing nearby, arms crossed, a look of amusement on its face. A fourth was sitting before a campfire eating unconcernedly.

Horrified, Sandy looked around in a panic. Right next to her lay Brianna, a livid bruise above her right eye, her arm in a crudely applied splint. The woman was slowly moving her head, starting to come around. Sandy pressed up against her friend and stared wide-eyed at the repulsive creature. It was cocking its head to the side, looking at her.

"You got blood on your clothes," it growled. Sandy jumped, shocked that it spoke, moreso that she understood it. "Take them off. They need cleanin'." If she didn't know better, Sandy would have thought it was trying to be helpful, even reasonable. Again, the beast reached for her. This time, Sandy found her voice and screamed, delivering a kick to the creature's face that would have made her kung fu instructor nod with approval. Some kind of black liquid oozed from its blunt nose as it recoiled, clutching its face and whimpering.

Her cry alerted the other creatures. The battle ended abruptly. All eyes turned to her. The one by the fire snorted and went back to its meal. The one watching the battle suddenly puffed up in fury and stomped over to the one Sandy kicked. Grabbing the beast by the collar, the angry one bellowed in the other's face.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your paws off'em?" Shoving the hapless creature away, the angry one cuffed it upside the head for good measure. "Morkoth! Finish up with him and get over here. Your female's awake."

The hulking beast pushed the smaller one into the ground where it lay groaning, and came over to join them. Squatting down in front of Sandy, it looked at her with an intensity that left her trembling.

"Do not be afraid," it rumbled in a low, guttural voice. "I will not hurt you."

"Who..._what_ are you?" Sandy managed to ask, her voice a rasping whisper.

The creatures exchanged glances. Turning back to her, the one before her said, "I am Morkoth. We are Uruk-hai."

"Hmph," the angry one grunted in an undertone. "More or less."

"Wait," Sandy said, closing her eyes for a moment as her headache flared anew and her stomach lurched nauseatingly. "That's... you're orcs."

Shrugging, Morkoth nodded.

"Where are we?" she whispered.

"Gap of Rohan," the creature named Morkoth replied.

"So... not Chicago."

"I do not know... Chicago."

"Did that one say," Sandy said shakily, "I'm your female?"

Morkoth twitched one shoulder in what might have been agreement. "For protection. I am to keep you safe."

"Safe... from what?" she asked, her voice nearly a squeak.

Without bothering to look around, Morkoth jerked a clawed thumb back towards the creature still lying on the ground where it had been pummeled into submission. Another thumb jerked toward the one that had pawed at her earlier. With one hand, he aimlessly waved around, perhaps to indicate the world at large. Then he shrugged. "Keep you safe."

Swallowing hard, Sandy nodded. She looked at Brie. The woman's eyes were slowly opening. She raised an arm to cover her eyes against the glare of sunlight overhead.

"Brie," Sandy hissed, nudging her friend's uninjured arm lightly. She kept glancing up at Morkoth's impassive face. His yellow eyes flicked rapidly over her, seeming to take in the details of her face and body without moving his head. It was terribly unnerving. "Wake up, Brie. Please."

"Whuh," Brie groaned.

The angry creature suddenly barked, "Ghrulagûrz! Get your ass over here now!"

Sandy cringed for a moment, then stepped up the vigor of her urging. "Dammit, Brie, wake up! I mean it!"

When the creature named Ghrulagûrz emerged from behind some rocks alongside the camp, Sandy froze in shock. With difficulty, Brianna pushed herself to sit up, and she too was transfixed by the newcomer.

He – for Sandy had come to think of them as intelligent creatures now rather than simple animals – had the bearing of one who is prey among predators that are only momentarily disinterested in the chase. His yellow eyes darted warily from one orc to another. The skin of his face and hands was mottled, a mix of the same color as the others with patches of severe damage, as though from burns. His hair was long but thin; the burning had damaged his scalp as well.

"What the hell is _that_?" Brie hissed, terrified.

"He's an Orc. They're all Orcs," Sandy replied quietly. She couldn't take her eyes off the burned one. It was like the big reveal in a horror movie, when the monster finally comes on camera. You just _can't_ look away.

"I thought Orcs were green," Brie whimpered, her voice high-pitched as panic set in. "Are we dead? How did we get here? This can't be real."

"It's real," Sandy insisted.

"You," the angry Orc snarled at Ghrulagûrz. "That one's yours." He pointed at Brianna, and she startled. "At least for now. You're in charge of her. Don't let nothin' happen to her." He turned his head toward the prone orc across the camp. "Especially not Nûlkol."

"Why?" Ghrulagûrz asked suspiciously.

"Why do you _think?"_ the angry one asked evenly. Ghrulagûrz scowled, clearly offended by whatever it was his apparent leader was suggesting. To take some of the sting out of it, the angry one thumped Ghrulagûrz's shoulder. The burned Orc flinched and took a step away.

Snarling, the angry Orc grabbed his arm more forcefully and all but shoved him down to sit next to Brianna. She nearly jumped into Sandy's lap to get away from him. Ghrulagûrz never looked at her; drawing up his knees, he rested his arms over them and stared sullenly toward the campfire.

"Don't make me chain you to her," the apparent leader barked harshly. "Razkaar!" he suddenly shouted over his shoulder. "Come meet our 'guests'!" His tone was sarcastic.

Sandy looked around the camp, but saw no evidence that there were any others besides the six she was looking at.

"No!" a voice yelled back. The voice had a strange quality to it; not quite as gruff as the others and pitched noticeably higher. Sandy thought it might be the voice of an Orc child, or at least one that was very young.

However, the leader didn't appear as tolerant toward the youngster as one might have expected. Turning on his heel, he stomped to a clump of bushes on the edge of the camp. Reaching in, he yanked an undersized Uruk out by the hair. Without a word, he dragged the obviously terrified Razkaar over to the women and held him out in front of them.

The little Uruk's eyes rolled back in his head, and he slithered to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Across the camp, the one who'd only just been beaten into the ground was sitting up and laughing like crazy.


	3. Getting Acquainted

**Getting Acquainted**

Brianna stared at each Orc in turn, barely able to process what she was seeing. They all looked like monsters from one of Sandy's ridiculous movies. About all she knew was that Orc equals evil.

The fact that none of them seemed concerned about the little one's collapse, one of them even laughing about it, disturbed her more than anything else so far.

The biggest one among them, that Morkoth, made himself comfortable facing the women, but seemed to only be interested in Sandy, which made the redhead shift uncomfortably beside her friend. On the other hand, the burned Orc, Ghrulagûrz, hadn't even looked at her after nearly being thrown down beside her.

Leaning toward her friend and keeping a wary eye on Morkoth, Brianna whispered, "Will they hurt us?"

Sandy glanced at Brianna, then returned her wide-eyed gaze to the Orc. "He says no. I'm not sure I believe it."

"We will not hurt you," he rumbled.

"Well, what do you want with us, then?" Brianna asked.

Before Morkoth could answer, the angry one dropped to one knee in front of the women. His face was fierce, yet he seemed to be trying to keep his voice even. "We got a problem. You're gonna help us with it."

Both women raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"Nûrzgrat, I do not think it is such a good idea...," Morkoth began, frowning at the leader.

"Please tell them," the beaten Orc hissed as he crept up behind Nûrzgrat and Morkoth. Peering around the leader's shoulder, he leered at each woman in turn. "I want to smell their fear." His hand darted out and grabbed Brianna's ankle, making her squeal in terror.

There was no warning. One moment Ghrulagûrz was still and quiet at Brianna's side, the next he was on top of the beaten Orc, clawed fingers around his throat, the most ferocious roar the women had heard yet from any of the other Orcs coming from him.

Even Morkoth and Nûrzgrat looked startled.

"Get'im, Ghru!" the previously disinterested Orc by the campfire yelled, rising and approaching the battling Orcs, his eyes alight with sadistic humor.

Brianna and Sandy hugged each other tightly, staring in horror at the vicious display before them. And nobody seemed inclined to stop it, not even when the combatants steamrollered the prone body of the little Orc. Twice.

"Well, well, well," Nûrzgrat said, sounding almost chipper, "looks like the boy's got some fire in the belly after all."

Morkoth shrugged. "You gave the female to him. He protects what is his."

"Or he hates Nûlkol more than we knew," the disinterested orc observed.

Nûrzgrat snorted indelicately. "_Nobody_ bloody well likes Nûlkol. Why should Ghru be any different?"

"Oh my god," Sandy suddenly gasped, grabbing Brianna's arm. "I'm not seeing this."

"What?"

"Sshh!" Sandy said, covering her eyes.

Bewildered, Brianna peered over by the fire where Sandy was trying hard not to look. The Orc that Brianna had failed to notice before, the one who had pawed at Sandy's clothes, was masturbating.

Brianna clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her own gasp. She willed herself to look away. It was too much, everything that was happening, and she wished very badly all of a sudden that she could faint like the little Orc did.

Seeing the women's discomfort, Morkoth glanced over his shoulder. He didn't seem the least bit disturbed by what the other one was doing. "Best let him finish," he said.

"Why is he _doing_ that?" Sandy asked no one in particular, her hands still plastered to her eyes.

"Because he feels like it," the big Orc said.

Nûrzgrat snorted. "Get used to it," he snarled defensively. Then he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Thakûf and Razkaar are just... They were born too fuckin' early."

"You did not have any choice," Morkoth pointed out, as if it were an old argument.

"Should have left them to drown like all the others," Nûrzgrat muttered.

"Drown? What do you mean?" Sandy asked.

"We are from Isengard," Morkoth replied uncomfortably. "There was... a flood."

Sandy stared at the Orc in shock. When she found her voice, she asked, "When?"

"Two days ago."

"And you all escaped?"

Morkoth nodded.

The battle seemed to have ended with Nûlkol lying in a broken, bloody heap on the edge of camp. Ghrulagûrz limped back over to his seat next to Brianna, black blood seeping from a split lip.

"Feel better?" Nûrzgrat asked sardonically. The burned Orc just nodded without looking at anyone. "Get some sleep, boy. You look like shit."

Ghrulagûrz shook his head. "They come at night," he said cryptically.

"Nobody's coming for you, boy," Nûrzgrat said quietly.

As quickly as he launched himself at Nûlkol, Ghrulagûrz leaped to his feet again and strode toward the rocky outcropping he'd been hiding in when the women first arrived.

"Get your ass back here!" Nûrzgrat barked. "A lot of good you'll do her when you're off hiding in a hole somewhere. I wasn't joking; I _will_ chain you to her if that's what it takes. Don't test me, boy!"

The Orc froze, his back rigid for several moments, apparently weighing his leader's threat. Finally, his shoulders sagged and his head bowed. Turning, he slumped back to Brianna's side and dropped beside her once more.

"May I ask a question?" Sandy said timidly, holding up a shaking finger.

"Go ahead," Nûrzgrat said, nodding.

Taking a deep breath, Sandy said, "What the hell is going on here?"

Grunting a laugh, the leader said, "You gotta be more specific, girlie."

"Okay, first of all, I think introductions are necessary..."

"Good!" crowed the disinterested Orc, suddenly swooping in and sitting next to Morkoth with a big grin. "I'm Frûmâdûrz. If these two don't live up to their promises, I'll do you up proper, no questions asked."

"I don't even want to know what you're talking about," Sandy said, wincing. Brianna could tell she knew _exactly_ what the Orc was saying. Both women shuddered.

"Touch mine, and I will feed you your own intestines very slowly," Morkoth growled. Turning to Sandy, he repeated, "I am Morkoth. Your protector."

"Nûrzgrat," the angry one said. "Thrice cursed leader of this misbegotten band." Thumbing toward the unconscious heap behind him, he went on. "That piece of shit's Razkaar."

"Why is he so much smaller than the rest of you?" Brianna asked.

"Born too early," Nûrzgrat said again. "Should've stayed in the ground at least another month, maybe more. At least Thakûf only had another couple weeks to go, but he's still fucked in the head."

"Thak...," Sandy said hesitantly.

"The one yanking his dick by the fire," Nûrzgrat snarled. The women were forcefully reminded of the Orc's activities, briefly becoming aware of Thakûf's gasps and moans before shutting out the embarrassing sounds again. "Doesn't matter how many times you tell him not to do something, he'll do it again and again. Whatever pops into that stupid head of his, whenever it pops."

Swallowing hard, Brianna turned to the Orc beside her. "Your name is Ghrulagûrz?" His only response was a grunt. There was something so compellingly odd about this Orc. Brianna tried again. "Are you my... protector?" He jerked his chin once in the affirmative, but still didn't turn to look at her or otherwise acknowledge that she was speaking to him.

"Ghru's not a talker," Frûmâdûrz offered.

"I talk," the burned Orc snarled, though he still wasn't looking at anyone.

"Well, you better start crowing like a cock," Frûmâdûrz snapped. "Whiteskin females never shut the fuck up. You gotta out-talk them if you ever want any peace."

Both women glared furiously at the Orc. "Just what do you base _that_ assumption on?" Sandy snapped.

Before Frû could respond, Razkaar began to stir, groaning loudly and rolling onto his side. At the same time, Thakûf wandered over to the group, apparently finished with what he was doing. Neither of the women could look him in the face.

Oblivious to their embarrassment, Thakûf squatted down next to Sandy and took a fistful of her hair that wasn't covered by Frû's bandaging, bringing it up to his nose for a sniff. With a cry she lost her balance and fell against him, then tried to scramble away, but the Orc had a firm grip.

Morkoth was quick to dislodge the offending hand from his charge, though he was far less violent with Thakûf than he and Ghrulagûrz had been with Nûlkol. He merely squeezed Thakûf's wrist until the bones ground together. With a whimper, the Orc retreated.

"And you are...?" Nûrzgrat asked, as if nothing had happened.

Shaken, Sandy haltingly gave her and Brianna's names.

Behind Nûrzgrat, Razkaar sat up and rubbed his eyes. Seeing the women still there, he squealed and made to run for cover once again, but Nûrzgrat's reflexes were superior. He reached back and grabbed the little Orc's ankle.

"They ain't gonna hurt you, idiot," he snarled, reeling in the hapless runt. A brief struggle put Razkaar into a headlock under the leader's powerful arm, forcing the little Orc to look at the women. His face was a rictus of horror.

Glancing at Brianna, Sandy leaned forward and said, "It's okay, Razkaar. We won't hurt you."

"You promise?" he rasped, slightly choked by Nûrzgrat's hold.

Brianna forced a smile. "Yes, we promise."

The little Orc must have relaxed, for Nûrzgrat loosed his hold and let Razkaar go. Though still eying the women suspiciously, he was no longer trying to flee.

"Now, when you say they should have stayed in the ground, what _exactly_ does that mean?" Sandy asked.

Nûrzgrat sighed. "We are born as men are, but Saruman couldn't wait for us to grow. He put us in the ground, bag of waters and all, and used his cursed magic to age us quickly. We come out as you see us now."

Gesturing toward Razkaar, whose eyes were now taking in the women with uncertain interest, the leader went on, "This little runt should've stayed where he was another month or two, but the pits were filling up. I grabbed who I could. There just... wasn't any time." He swallowed and looked away.

"So... how old _are_ you?" Brianna asked.

"Well, I'm the oldest," Nûrzgrat said with an amused grunt. "I was pulled from the earth twenty six summers ago. One of the Master's first." There was a hint of pride in his voice. "Then there's Ghrulagûrz. He came out about a year or two later. Frû's maybe two, three summers old. Morkoth's got about two summers..."

"Four," the big Orc corrected.

"Four? Really? Lost track, I suppose. Anyway, Nûlkol came out about this time last year, and the younglings are just a couple days old." He shrugged.

"Tell me something," Frû said to Sandy, a wicked leer on his face. "Is it the same color between your legs?"

Sandy's mouth fell open in shock, and her face bloomed a violent red that clashed horribly with her hair. Brianna was stricken.

"Ah, no matter," Frû said nonchalantly. "I'll just ask Morkoth in the morning."

The big orc glared at Frû, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "I do not intend to have an answer, _pushdug_."

Brianna's body began to tremble at the Orc's implication, not truly hearing Morkoth's denial. She couldn't meet Sandy's eyes when the woman turned to her with alarm. "No, no, no," she murmured, shaking her head with increasing vigor. She pressed her hands to her ears and pulled her knees up close to her chest.

"I see," Sandy said quietly, putting a protective arm around Brianna's shoulders. "Um. Maybe you should... explain what... problem it was you said we could help with."

Nûrzgrat leaned forward. Brianna instinctively recoiled. "Simple survival, girl. _Sharkû_ didn't make no females, so we gotta take matters into our own hands. Just when I thought we were doomed as a race, the powers threw a couple of wenches at my second. I ain't throwing you back."

"Ah," Sandy replied stiffly. Brianna couldn't believe how calm her friend sounded, when she had to be as near to screaming as Brianna was. "Well then. So... by 'protector' you mean 'rapist.' Interesting."

Morkoth shook his head. "No. We will not force you." He glared at his leader for a moment before looking back at Sandy. "You can go if you want. We won't stop you."

"Where would they go?" Ghrulagûrz suddenly asked. Brianna had all but forgotten him in his brooding silence. "There's a war going on. No place is safe."

"Not for us, no," Nûrzgrat agreed. "But for them..."

"Ghru's right," Frûmâdûrz interrupted. "Two helpless females wandering around in Rohan... if survivors from Helm's Deep don't get them, assuming there _are_ any, wild men from the mountains will. Personally, I'd rather we hold on to our breeders as long as we can. At least get one or two whelps outta them."

Morkoth's fist shot out, catching Frû in the face. The other Orc just grinned, rubbing his jaw.


	4. Meanwhile, Back at the Hall of Justice

**Meanwhile, Back at the Hall of Justice**

Vairë the Weaver hastened through the halls of Manwë's residence, fingers working anxiously. A migraine was settling in behind her left eye. The beauty of the Elder King's home flashed by unnoticed.

"Weaver," Manwë said with surprise as the Valier blew into his audience hall. The heads of several Maiar attending their lord turned toward her, curious. "To what do I owe this rare pleasure?"

"Lord of the West," Vairë intoned, dipping a curtsy that was only just a hair on this side of proper. "Something has happened. Something...disturbing."

The Elder King sighed, rubbing his brow. "Has another hapless female from another world been dropped into the War of the Ring period?"

"Yes, in part," she replied. "Two, in this case."

"Hmmm...well, there is little we can do when wayward Maiar play their little games, other than damage control." Frowning, he noted the Weaver's agitation. "I take it this pair is not being thrown at the elf for...recreation?"

"No, Lord," she answered. She was rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, biting her lower lip.

"Vairë, what has you so upset?"

"Orcs, my Lord," she wailed. "They were thrown at _orcs_."

"Melkor's abominations?" he cried, incredulous.

"No, worse," she whimpered, shaking her head. "These are the vicious creatures of Curunír's making."

Shuddering, the Elder King said, "What could possibly be the purpose of that?"

"I know not. I did what I could. The beast that found them, I...softened his heart as much as I could, although..." She hesitated, unsure.

"What?" Manwë gently urged.

"He...seemed already...disposed toward them. He did not wish them harm. Or...mischief. Still, I did not want to take the chance."

"Very wise. You say there were more than one of them?"

"Yes, seven in all. A very...odd grouping. Their leader, the one who found the women, and a couple of the others seemed the most... steady. As for the rest... they have... issues." She shuddered, recalling a few of the things she'd witnessed.

"I wonder who would have done such a thing?" Manwë murmured thoughtfully. Glancing back at the Weaver, he said, "Would you say the women are in immediate danger?"

"Not so far as I can tell," she said, then blushed. "It would appear that the orcs are...negotiating. For...mating privileges."

"You're kidding."

"No, Lord. Would that I were."

He leaned back on his throne, listening to the alarmed whisperings of his Maiar in the chamber. "We cannot remove them, alas. I would like for you to...keep an eye on things. Learn what you can. I would know who did this, and for what purpose."

"Yes, Lord," Vairë said with relief, then spun and raced back to her own lodgings to resume her vigil.

The Elder King was baffled. There was just no reason for this, other than some sick desire to see what the monsters would do with helpless females. It should be obvious, and not require such measures. Such an event certainly bore thinking about.


	5. What the Hell? We're Staying!

**What the Hell? We're Staying!**

"I think," Sandy said shakily, "we need to...discuss this. Your offer. In private."

Morkoth's brows arched, but he just gestured for them to go ahead. Sandy rose unsteadily, feeling a bit dizzy in the process, and urged her friend to follow. The two women edged away from the camp.

The shadows were lengthening toward twilight. When she felt they were far enough away not to be overheard, Sandy turned to Brie and assessed the woman's state.

At a glance, she could see that Brianna was barely holding it together. The shock was almost too great to bear. Steeling herself, Sandy accepted the role of strong one, and embraced her friend. "It's gonna be all right."

"Why are we here?" Brie whispered, her voice trembling.

"I don't know," Sandy replied. "We should probably be dead. We weren't wearing seat belts." Barely suppressing an ironic chuckle, she said, "If my dad knew about that, he'd kill me."

"Dead, or brutally gang-raped by a pack of monsters," Brie mused. "I'm pretty sure which one _I'd_ prefer."

Sandy stepped back, holding Brie at arm's length. "Don't go there. We're going to be fine. We've got the two biggest brutes in the camp watching over us, both of whom have shown they're quite capable of defending us." An involuntary shudder passed through her. "Viciously, perhaps, but thoroughly."

Brie closed her eyes and bit her lip, but nodded. "What I don't understand is why."

"Did you really look at them?" Sandy asked. "Not one of them is wearing armor. They look like they grabbed the first thing to hand and bolted out the door. They're not even wearing shoes. They maybe have four swords among them."

Frowning, Brie shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're trying to say. This is more your area of expertise than mine."

Sighing, Sandy released her friend and put her hands on her waist. "I'm no expert on Tolkien lore. I remember the movies far better than my one reading of the books. I'm baffled myself. You're the psych major, you tell me. But that Nûrz-whosit guy struck me as completely honest when he said they were in survival mode."

"Why don't they just go find other orcs?" Brie asked.

"Hello? You've seen how vicious they are, even among themselves!" Again, the woman shuddered. "Tell me, Miss Almost-Done-With-Her-Doctorate, if that lot gets in among a group of 'normal' orcs, what would be the outcome?"

Brie's eyebrows rose. "I'd say most of them would be killed outright. The little one would be the first to go."

"That would be my assumption, as well. They're like blood in the water. He may bitch and moan, but their leader has taken on the responsibility of saving his entire race. He's not going to risk even a drop of genetic material being lost, no matter how...weird it is."

Brie slowly sat on the ground, staring off toward the darkening horizon. "I don't want to be a brood mare for a load of monsters."

"Neither do I," Sandy conceded, pacing a few feet away. "At the moment, though, I think we're stuck with them. We don't know anything about this place, really. And there is most definitely a war going on. I remember enough to know that after Isengard got flooded, things just escalated. An even bigger shit-storm is coming, and I'd rather not be wandering around lost when it hits."

"You mean to stay, don't you," Brie said flatly, not looking at her friend.

"Yeah," she replied, bowing her head and kicking a loose stone. "I don't know why, but I kind of...well, I believe Morkoth. I think he's...in some ways a _de facto_ leader, even if he lets Nûrz-something run things. I don't get a sense that he's lying when he says we won't be forced into anything. What sort of read do you get off that...other one? Ghru-whatever?"

Brie took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Ghrulagûrz. There's something...wrong with him."

Sandy snorted. "No shit, Buckwheat."

"No, I mean...the way he acts around the others. Like he thinks they'll come after him. It's weird, but that's how I felt around men after..." She swallowed hard, not wanting to remember. "Stupid, I know. He's huge. There's just no way."

"He looks like he's been on fire," Sandy said, grimacing. Brie nodded.

"I saw his eyes, just for a moment," she said slowly. "It was like looking into the depths of hell."

"He has issues, that's for sure." Laughing a little, Sandy said, "That's an understatement that applies across the board." Turning to her friend, she said bracingly, "If nothing else, this is one of those golden opportunities for you, you know? You're studying psychology; I think you just had half a dozen case studies dropped in your lap."

Brie gave her a withering look. "Oh, goody."

Suddenly, Sandy straightened. Patting her jeans pockets, she relaxed, extracting her harmonica. "Thank god. If I lost this..."

"...you'd be insufferably annoying," Brie finished, finally smiling a little.

Grinning, Sandy blew a trill across the mouthpiece, then slipped the instrument back into her pocket, patting it happily. "Still works."

It happened so fast, and neither woman heard him coming. A large, dark form flew into Sandy from out of nowhere, propelling her several yards to fall face down in the grass. Brie's scream shattered the stillness, but Sandy couldn't make a sound, the air forced from her lungs by the hurtling orc. Gasping for air, she panicked for a moment, feeling the clawed hands tearing at her jeans. Then just as suddenly as he had attacked, the orc was yanked off her.

Brie rushed over and helped Sandy sit up, hugging her close, sobbing in terror. Sandy looked up to see what became of her attacker.

She was not surprised to see Morkoth pounding the daylights out of Nûlkol. What _was_ surprising was that he was aided in his efforts by a thoroughly pissed off Ghrulagûrz. Nûrzgrat stood over the fighters almost like a referee, allowing them to carry on until some arbitrary point where he would step in. Frû hovered on the perimeter, cheering the bigger orcs on and occasionally sneaking a kick at Nûlkol when an opportunity arose.

"Why don't they just kill him?" Brie whispered through clenched teeth.

"More fun this way?" Sandy replied, shivering.

Eventually, Nûrzgrat broke up the fight, apparently satisfied that the offending orc had been taught a lesson. It didn't look much like Nûlkol was going to waken this time, at least not for a good long while.

Giving the prone orc one last kick, Morkoth went to Sandy and crouched by her. "You all right?" he asked, concern furrowing his sweaty brow.

"I've been worse," she said. "Thank you."

"I won't hurt you," he insisted. "I won't let anyone else hurt you, either. You have my word."

Sandy nodded. Glancing over, she saw that Ghrulagûrz was likewise crouched by Brie, though further away from her than Morkoth was from Sandy. His eyes kept flicking from Brie to the ground to somewhere else to Brie, as if he couldn't look her in the face, but wanted to be reassured she was unharmed.

"So...," Nûrzgrat said, standing over them. "You staying?"

Sandy slowly rose and dusted herself off. She had to admit, this leader was nigh unflappable, and pretty damned focused on his own agenda. Meeting the fierce orc's gaze, she said, "For the time being, I suppose we are. But if you don't do something about that piece of shit, one of us will."

"Don't go wandering alone, then," he snapped. "Keep these boys at your side all the time. Get used to pissing in front of them. You need to wash, they better be in the water with you. They're your shadows."

"You make it sound so...delightful," Sandy retorted sarcastically. "One thing more. We are _not_ agreeing to... breeding. That is off the table."

"Fine," Nûrzgrat snarled, then added pointedly, "_For now_."

"And when we want to leave, you'll let us go?"

Nûrzgrat rolled his eyes and grimaced. Shooting a hostile glare at Morkoth, he said, "Yes."

"All right then."

"Everybody back to camp!" Nûrzgrat bellowed suddenly, asserting himself once more. "Show's over!"

Sandy gave Brie a hand up, and the two women joined the orcs as they returned to the warm campfire. They left Nûlkol lying in a battered pile without a second thought.

Within the firelight, Sandy could see the still forms of Razkaar and Thakûf, huddled back to back in sleep. Razkaar twitched like a dog dreaming of the chase. There were no blankets; evidently, this was a luxury the orcs hadn't had time to secure in their hasty escape.

"Hungry?" Morkoth asked as they sat down.

"A little," Sandy replied. She wasn't sure she'd be able to keep anything down at this point. Her head had started hurting again, or she was just able to notice the existing pain now that things had calmed a bit.

The big orc handed her some strips of meat from where they had been warming on a stone next to the fire. Her stomach roiled briefly, but she fought down her nausea and began to eat. Glancing to the opposite side of the campfire, she saw that Brie was also taking a few delicate bites of meat Ghrulagûrz must have offered.

"This is...crazy," Sandy said quietly, half to herself.

The orc beside her grunted, but made no other comment. Looking over at him, she noted his features. His skin was very dark, nearly black, yet the scars that she could see, one of which was down the side of his face along the hairline, were much lighter. His brow ridge was heavy, overshadowing his eyes and giving him a wild, bestial appearance. As if the pointed ears, heavy jawline, and sharp, jagged teeth didn't already. Noticing her scrutiny, he turned his head and pierced her with that intense gaze of his.

"Sorry," she whispered nervously, looking away. "I've just never seen... anyone like you before." She'd almost said 'any_thing_' but stopped herself, figuring he would take offense.

"There aren't orcs where you come from?" he asked. When he spoke quietly, as he was doing now, his voice was a low growl, sounding both gentle and threatening at the same time.

She could only shake her head, not trusting herself to speak lest her voice betray her nervousness.

"Where _did_ you come from?"

She glanced at him. "I'm not sure. Somewhere else. This is either the distant past of where I come from, or a different world entirely. I have no idea."

Morkoth seemed to contemplate her words for several moments before speaking. "You know what orcs are, though."

Nodding, she said, "Yeah. At least, my world's concept of them."

"What is your...'concept' of us?"

"Nothing flattering," she replied evasively.

He grunted a couple of times. It took Sandy a moment to realize he was laughing. "You don't need to be nice."

"Well," she said awkwardly, "we think of orcs as...uh...little more than wild animals, I guess. Sort of...semi-intelligent, murderous beasts. Driven by baser instincts. Easily manipulated by evil people for their own ends. You know...stuff like that." She dared a glance at him.

He was looking into the fire. She was beginning to get a sense of his expressions, and he looked... annoyed.

"Sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to upset you."

He shook his head quickly. "Not upset. Just..." He shrugged, but didn't elaborate.

Forcing a smile, she said, "Hey, if you want to rag on humans, feel free."

Morkoth grunted a brief laugh. He rubbed his face tiredly. "We must seem that way. Humans only see us in battle."

"Humans have a way of seeing what they expect to see," she mused. "You...look kind of...uh...rough around the edges, so we're going to jump to conclusions that may or may not be true."

"'Rough around the edges'," he repeated, clearly amused. "I like that."

"So...what's your 'concept' of humans?"

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Men protect their own. Land, towns, females, young. They protect what isn't theirs as well. I've heard they have allied with elves and dwarves in the past. They are fierce in battle. They show us no mercy. If we do not win the fight, we do not survive. That's why I didn't march with the army. I was wounded at the Fords of the Isen. We won, so I was brought back and healed. If we hadn't, I would have been slain, either in battle or after."

"You must hate us," she said.

Again, he shook his head. "No. Humans have honor. We have wronged them. It is just, what they do to us."

"You're a strange orc, Morkoth," she said.

"We are Uruk-hai," he said. "We are not fully orc. The blood of Men flows in us, but we are used as a weapon against them."

"A mighty weapon, at that," Nûrzgrat said as he sat heavily on Sandy's other side. He had a strip of meat in his clawed hand and was ripping a piece off with sharp teeth. Chewing thoughtfully, he said, "I've watched Sharkû plotting and scheming for years. I've watched my brothers die for him, but he always made more of us. Bigger and stronger every time. Always improving." He scowled and threw a stick into the fire, watching the flames slowly consume it. "His shield against his enemies. A pile of us stacked between him and them."

"Not a very attractive position," Sandy ventured. The leader snorted.

"No. I doubt any of the lads these days even think about that, though. Too many from my time are gone. The army was mostly made up of whelps like him," he said, nodding toward Morkoth. "Blindly loyal, never questioning anything."

"I questioned," Morkoth asserted quietly.

"Yes, you did," Nûrzgrat agreed. "I had to patch you up afterwards. Nobody else would touch you. Didn't want to be associated with that kind of thinking."

"What happened?" the woman asked, dreading the answer but curious nonetheless.

Morkoth shrugged. "Got whipped."

Nûrzgrat scoffed. "That's it? Just 'got whipped'? Girl, you would've wept to see it, even happening to one of us."

"It's not necessary..." Morkoth warned, a harsh growl rumbling in his chest.

"Shut up, you," Nûrzgrat snapped. "She's gonna see it sooner or later anyway, even if she doesn't want you fucking her." Turning to Sandy, whose cheeks were a brilliant mauve, he explained, "Morkoth got stripped down and whipped from head to foot. Must have lasted...I don't know, couple hours maybe? Seemed like it, anyway. You don't challenge Sharkû's orders. Period. Poor bastard couldn't sit for a month."

Sandy winced. Looking at the huge Uruk, it was hard to believe he could be treated like that by anyone.

"Wasn't the last time, either," Nûrzgrat went on. "Stupid boy wouldn't keep his fucking mouth shut. Every time he didn't agree with our Master, he couldn't keep it to himself, and he'd be tied to a post and reminded of his place."

"You do _not_ need to say any more," Morkoth snarled.

"Just letting her know," Nûrzgrat said easily. "She'll be asking what the hell happened to you the minute you take off that tunic."

"So what happened to Ghrulagûrz?" she asked, hoping the change of subject would calm the rising tide of anger at her side.

"Forge fire in the pits," Nûrzgrat said simply. "He wasn't a year out of the ground, helping out with some smithing, and some dumb fuck knocked him into a stack of new blades, a fight started, shit got tipped over... Huge blaze. Took hours to put it out. About a dozen died. Ghrulagûrz came close. His whole body's a mess."

Sandy shuddered at the thought. No wonder the Uruk looked so different from the others. However, the story didn't come close to fully explaining the orc's paranoia. Oh well. Brie had caught the scent; she'd have it out of him in no time, then tell Sandy all about it.

"Odd thing, though," Nûrzgrat mused. "His hide didn't heal right or something. Not as tough as ours." Glancing at Sandy, he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Might almost think you were touching a human if your eyes were closed."

"Weird," she offered. He snorted and nodded.

"Okay, now the million dollar question," she said, taking a deep breath. "What the _hell_ is Nûlkol's problem?"

Both Uruk-hai chuckled. "He has no problem," Morkoth said. Sandy arched an eyebrow at him, unconvinced.

Nûrzgrat elaborated. "What he means is, that piece of work is exactly the kind of thing Sharkû was shooting for."

"Not quite," Morkoth corrected.

"Okay, no, not quite, you're right," Nûrzgrat allowed. "Sharkû wanted vicious killing machines that actually followed orders. He got half. It's why we have to beat the fucker into the ground if we want to make a point. And he just keeps coming back for more." He shook his head in wonder. "Gonna be the death of that sick fuck one of these days."


	6. The Silent One Speaks

**The Silent One Speaks**

Brianna trembled and hugged herself as she realized the orcs were herding her away from her friend. True, they were mere yards from one another across the campfire, but she was unnerved by the vicious attack by one, and the frequent vulgarity of another. She didn't want to be alone, even with Ghrulagûrz. Her 'keeper' was a huge beast of an orc, at least a foot and a half taller than her. Morkoth similarly towered over Sandy. Though leaner than Morkoth, Ghrulagûrz was nonetheless a very intimidating person. The haunted look in his eyes did nothing to soften his appearance.

He practically thudded to the ground by the fire, not looking at her as usual. Brianna slowly lowered herself beside him and sat rigidly. Frûmâdûrz sat on her other side, closer than was comfortable, making Brianna cringe toward Ghrulagûrz.

"Now, now," Frû soothed in a voice that was anything but gentle, "I can be a help to you. Ghru here didn't get his name for no fucking reason. You get tired of waiting on him, you come tell me."

"Please do not speak to me," Brianna said stiffly. A low, rumbling growl was coming from Ghrulagûrz, and though his gaze was fixed on the flames, she suspected he knew exactly where the other orc was sitting, and exactly how he would have to move to reach him without hurting her. She scooted closer to him, making him startle slightly and glance toward her, though not _at_ her.

"Fine," Frû snorted, getting up. "My turn to watch anyway. And I'll be watching, trust me." Cackling to himself, he stalked off into the gathering shadows.

She looked at Ghrulagûrz, noting the grinding of his jaw and the intense glare he was aiming at the campfire, as if he wished to increase the heat by sheer force of will.

"Give the girl something to eat, boy," Nûrzgrat snapped as he walked up. "Thought I raised you better than that."

Keeping his eyes averted and head down, Ghrulagûrz grabbed a strip of meat off a nearby rock and thrust it at her. Brianna nearly dropped it.

The leader squatted down next to Brianna. He seemed to have a better respect for personal space than Frûmâdûrz did. "Listen to me, Ghrulagûrz. You sneak off to your little hole in the ground, and I swear, I'll take it outta your hide. You _know_ why you've got her and not Frû." Turning to Brianna, he regarded her bewildered expression for a moment. "You a maid?"

Her eyes flared wide, cheeks heating up.

"Apparently. That complicates things. Better get over your squeamishness now, seeing as how you gotta be up against him at night."

Now he had the attention of Ghrulagûrz as well. A dangerous scowl darkened the burned orc's face. "Nobody touches me," he snarled.

"The fuck they don't," Nûrzgrat snapped. "She don't count as 'everybody,' last I checked. We got the clothes on our backs and not much else. Gonna be awhile before spring comes in. Your job is to keep her alive, and that means keep her warm. You know what delicate things whiteskin females are." He smirked at Brianna.

"That's not necessary," Brianna whispered. Having briefly abandoned her, her voice didn't seem inclined to come all the way back.

Appraising her thin frame, Nûrzgrat sneered. "You huddle up in a ball one night this close to the mountains, and you'll be begging _Nûlkol_ to bed you."

"Oh god," she breathed, covering her face with her hands and shivering.

Rising, Nûrzgrat stomped to the other side of the campfire where Sandy and Morkoth were speaking in low voices.

Left relatively alone with Ghrulagûrz, she dared a peek through her fingers at his face. He was staring at her. When he saw the shine of her eyes in the firelight, he looked away quickly.

In that brief moment, she saw something altogether unexpected. Longing. Not carnal lust as was evident in Frûmâdûrz, though she had a feeling there was some of that in there as well.

"Ghrulagûrz," she said quietly, lowering her hands and turning toward him. His sharply pointed ear twitched a little, but he didn't face her. "What did Frû mean, about your name? Does it have a meaning?"

"It is...a joke," he replied. His voice was just as different from the others' as his appearance. His was a gravelly voice, whether from infrequent use or internal damage, she couldn't be sure.

"I'm not sure I get it. The joke," Brianna said. "Can you...explain it to me?"

He shot her a brief, annoyed look. "Frûmâdûrz was right; you _don't_ shut the fuck up." He half rose, clearly aiming for his rocky sanctuary, but changed his mind, and slumped back down.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, flinching. Unsure what to say or do, she took a few tentative bites of the meat he'd tossed her way. It was stringy and gamey, not to mention only partially cooked. She'd recently contemplated going vegetarian, and now she was certain it was a wise choice. However, under the circumstances, it didn't seem the right time for that sort of lifestyle change.

Glancing toward him, she saw his eyes dart forward, as if he'd been eying her and didn't want to get caught doing so. Steeling herself for resistance, she went into counselor mode.

"Ghrulagûrz," she said timidly, "what happened in Isen...something. What was that place called?"

"Isengard," he growled. His face contorted slightly, but she couldn't be sure whether it was the memory of the place or her inability to remember the name that aggravated him.

"Yes, Isengard. Morkoth mentioned something about flooding. What happened?"

He didn't answer right away. She could see him quivering with the desire to flee back to his hiding place, but obviously the elder orc's command still held him in check. Grunting slightly in a resigned sort of way, he said, "Master made war on the trees, and they fought back."

"I don't understand. How did he make war on the trees?"

"Cut them down. Burned them," he said, and winced slightly. Recovering, he continued, "He bred many of us for war. Soldiers need armor, weapons. The forges...were running day and night. Needed fuel. So...we cut down the forest. They didn't like it."

"They?"

"The trees," he said, unsuccessfully suppressing a shudder. "Many of them started walking. They entered the valley and killed everyone they found. They brought the waters of the Isen in, and filled the dens and tunnels."

"_Trees_ did this?" she whispered, horrified.

He nodded. "Nûrzgrat found me and Morkoth, made us grab whoever we ran across on the way out the back tunnel. I...," he hesitated, clearly reaching a point of the story he didn't like, "I tried to get rid of Nûlkol, but he wouldn't be got rid of. Followed us out. We found some young not ready for birthing, and Nûrzgrat tore them free. That was Thakûf and Razkaar. The water was coming too fast to get anyone else out." He closed his eyes, bowing his head.

Brianna didn't even think about what she was doing. The big Uruk was clearly in a dark place from those memories. She knew about dark places. Reaching out, she gently placed her hand on his arm.

He flinched so violently at the unexpected touch, Brianna thought he might strike her. Grasping his arm as if her sympathetic gesture burned him, he turned toward her, though his eyes still weren't meeting hers. "Don't touch me!" he hissed through clenched teeth. The woman scooted back from him, terrified.

"I didn't mean to...I'm sorry," she stammered. It took a moment to register that his expression was not angry. If anything, he seemed confused. But he held his arm as if it pained him, and hunched even further into himself as he turned away again.

That was another odd difference between Ghrulagûrz and Morkoth. Both were undeniably the tallest among the orcs. Brianna had known several very tall men in her life, and most of them seemed to favor a hunched posture to diminish their stature, appear less threatening. Morkoth did nothing of the sort; he stood straight and proud. He seemed the kind of orc who used his greater size to his advantage. Ghrulagûrz, on the other hand, tried to look smaller, but it didn't seem to Brianna that he did so out of concern for the comfort of others. He rather seemed to be trying to get under the radar entirely, and not be seen at all.

Seeing the way he clutched his arm, she hesitantly asked, "Did I hurt you?"

He shot her a vicious look that completely surprised and unnerved her. His lips curled in a snarl.

"Please tell me," Brianna whispered brokenly, "how to talk to you. I don't want to offend you, but I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do." Frustration, fear, and shock overwhelmed her suddenly. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes, and knew a completely different flood was on the horizon. "I don't know anything about orcs or Isengard or this war. I don't know how I got here. I'm trying not to get killed or worse, and all I seem to be successful at is pissing you off." Tears slid down her cheeks and a sob tore from her throat. She covered her face with her hands and leaned forward, and wept.

"It does not matter," Ghrulagûrz muttered after a few moments. His voice almost seemed apologetic. "You do not...offend me."

When it seemed his words were not having much of an affect on her, the Uruk edged toward her a few inches. "I am not pissed off," he said quietly.

Slowly, Brianna raised her red-rimmed eyes to look at him. He was still not looking directly at her face for more than a second at a time. "Can you tell me what's going on? With the war?"

"The Dark Lord is conquering all," he said simply. He almost looked relieved by the change of subject. "Crushing the enemy before him."

"What enemy?" she asked.

Shrugging, he said, "You."

Arching her eyebrows, she said, "Me? Specifically?"

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. "No. Men. Humans. Any that stand in his way."

"Well, um, that's...bad, right? Killing humans?"

He only grunted and shrugged.

"What about orcs?" she pressed. "Where do the orcs stand in this conflict?"

Ghrulagûrz slowly turned his head to look at her full-on. She almost wilted under the harsh gaze. "We were made by he who serves the Dark Lord. We are his weapons against Men."

Her mouth formed a soundless 'o'. "So..._I'm_ your enemy."

Again, he shrugged, returning his gaze to the fire.

"I'm your enemy," she repeated, "and lucky to be alive, I expect. I'm surprised you didn't...kill us on sight."

"Wouldn't have killed you," Ghrulagûrz muttered.

"That's reassuring..."

"Would've fucked you first, each one of us, then killed you."

Brianna felt her body shift from occasional shivers of fear to full-blown terrified trembling. The few bites of meat she'd eaten soured in her stomach. She barely suppressed the urge to vomit.

"Morkoth said not to, Nûrzgrat agreed, so no fucking." Oddly, even through her haze of revulsion, she caught the note of relief in his voice. "Sharkû doesn't run our lives now. We don't have to be like that. Don't have to do anything we don't want to anymore."

She slowly looked over at him. His mouth was set in a grim, almost defiant line. Though his gaze was fixated on the flames, she wasn't sure he was actually seeing them. While he didn't look even a little bit peaceful, Ghrulagûrz at least seemed somewhat calm. A far cry from how he'd been only a short time earlier, tearing at Nûlkol with teeth and claws...

"Ghrulagûrz," she said timidly, "why do you hate Nûlkol so much? Apart from the obvious fact that he's an asshole."

The Uruk stiffened, but didn't try to leave and didn't snarl at her for the question. "I do not...forget...easily."

"He has hurt you before?" All she got out of him this time was a nod. "It's...hard to believe. You're so much... bigger than he is..."

Her comments were affecting Ghrulagûrz in a disquieting way. Several muscles in his face were twitching, his brow was creasing and furrowing. Clawed hands clenched into fists. Even his toes curled, digging talons into the dirt. "He was never alone," the Uruk growled through clenched teeth.

"Then he is a coward," she stated firmly. She may not know much about orcs, but she'd studied enough about warrior cultures to grasp the basic mindset.

Ghrulagûrz visibly settled down, releasing tensions in his face and hands. "Yes. A coward."


	7. Spooning With Orcs

**Spooning With Orcs**

He was damn near as big as a mountain, looming over her even lying down. Sandy knew this was necessary. The fire was not enough to drive away the chill in the air that pierced straight to the bone now that the sun had set. Morkoth was, at least, very hot-blooded. She could feel the heat radiating from him when she sat beside him earlier. At first she thought it was from the campfire, but now that she was closer, the orc's natural body heat was apparent.

"Do not be afraid," the huge Uruk said quietly. "I will not harm you."

"Sorry," she muttered, finally sinking to the ground in front of him. The flattened grass of the campsite was cold beneath her, and she shivered.

He lay there patiently, not touching her or drawing her close. Just...waiting.

Taking a deep breath and squeezing her eyes shut, Sandy hesitantly backed into his chest. It was like wrapping herself in an electric blanket going full tilt. She let her breath out slowly, restraining the impulse to burrow deeper into the comforting heat of Morkoth's body.

Cradling her head on her arm, she tried to relax enough to sleep. She could feel every breath he took, his chest expanding and contracting like a bellows, the sound of his breathing almost a purr. His heavy, well-muscled arm encircled her waist protectively.

Glancing over, she saw Brianna was having a harder time with the idea, but then, so was Ghrulagûrz. His expression alone, as he sat cross-legged on the ground, was in no way welcoming. Sandy sympathized with her friend in this; the orcs were an anomaly in Brianna's world view that she probably couldn't reconcile. Sandy was having a rough enough time of it, and she at least had a passing familiarity with the species. As she had revealed to Morkoth, that familiarity was not a reassuring one.

"Down!" snapped Nûrzgrat, shoving the big Uruk over. Ghrulagûrz tipped awkwardly, sprawling on the ground. "Now you," he snarled at Brianna. Sandy winced with the woman; cozying up to that orc was not an inviting prospect. When she didn't move fast enough to suit him, Nûrzgrat made a grab for her arm.

Sandy half rose, intending to rush to her friend's defense, but Morkoth would not release her.

"Let them be," he said, his voice rumbling like an avalanche in his chest. She wondered if she could break his hold; he was big, very muscular, and undoubtedly determined. Her training had certainly included defense against such opponents. But what would the others do, if she tried anything? She was the outsider here. Morkoth may want to give her the impression that he was a gentle giant, but if she didn't do what he wanted, he'd likely have a few supporters behind him, making sure he got it.

She needn't have worried. Ghrulagûrz lurched to his feet and advanced on his leader. He looked nearly as vicious as he had when Nûlkol had grabbed Brianna before.

"Easy," Nûrzgrat said, letting go of Brianna and stepping back. "I ain't kidding, boy," he snarled, pressing his hand flat against the bigger Uruk's chest in a warding gesture. Ghrulagûrz flinched and backed off. "You know it's cold. Do whatcha gotta do."

Turning to Brianna, he said, "I ain't tellin' _you_ again, either. Get up against him or you'll freeze. You got nothin' to worry about from him."

"That's easy for you to say," Brianna replied, hugging herself and shivering.

Rolling his eyes, Nûrzgrat squatted down next to her and whispered something in her ear. Brianna started, a surprised expression on her face. Obviously, she hadn't expected whatever the leader said.

Straightening, Nûrzgrat met Ghrulagûrz's furious gaze, then silently pointed toward the fire. The bigger Uruk stomped over and threw himself down on his side, very like a child throwing a tantrum. But he lay still.

Brianna joined him with considerably less terror than she had shown before. Sandy just stared in shock as her friend lay down in the curve of Ghrulagûrz's body. What had Nûrzgrat said to her?

Settling back down, Sandy watched. While the damaged Uruk didn't retreat from contact with Brianna, he certainly didn't embrace her like Morkoth did Sandy. Still, she could tell he wanted to, for his hand clenched and rose off his side uncertainly, returned, rose, clenched, until finally he settled on keeping to himself.

Sandy was so preoccupied with what was happening to Brianna, she forgot completely about her own situation. It was brought home like a blunt force trauma when she realized Morkoth's cloth breeches were in no way masking the erection pressed firmly to her backside.

_Oh my god_, _don't say anything, don't draw attention to it, pretend you don't notice..._

Was he like that when she first lay down against him? She honestly couldn't remember. As intrusive as it was now, she couldn't imagine how she missed it before. Regardless, Sandy reacted as she would to any unspoken threat, her body tensing and shivering. Unfortunately, Morkoth interpreted the trembling as weather-related, and pulled her closer. She whimpered and went completely rigid.

"I will not harm you," Morkoth rumbled into her ear. She could feel his hot breath on her neck.

"I'm finding it very difficult to trust you," Sandy hissed through clenched teeth, "with your _dick_ in my ass."

She felt him startle against her. "It bothers you?"

Feeling damn near reckless in her exasperation, Sandy retorted, "What are you, retarded? Of _course_ it bothers me! Would you feel comfortable with a knife at your throat?"

"It's not a knife...," he began, but she elbowed him in the ribs sharply, surprising him into silence.

"No shit, Buckwheat," she growled. "At least a knife would be quick."

"Ah," he said, as if the light finally dawned. "You think I will rape you. No. That I will not do."

"Yeah, well, you have a funny way of convincing me."

"It is not necessary," he said, then seemed to be settling down to sleep, as if that was the end of the discussion.

Confused, Sandy hissed, "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"A man would give you a choice," he replied quietly. "I must do the same."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why?"

He sighed. "Go to sleep, Sandy."

"But..."

"Sleep."

Rolling her eyes, Sandy huffed crossly. By degrees, she could feel the tension slipping away, in spite of the intimidating pressure against her rear end. Looking over, she saw Brianna huddled against Ghrulagûrz, eyes drooping with fatigue. The big Uruk stared over her head at the campfire. He didn't look like he intended to sleep at all. Satisfied that at least her friend was all right, Sandy relaxed and closed her eyes. In the stillness, she could hear the snuffling grunts of the youngest orcs as they slept, the shuffling around of the leader as he tried to find a comfortable lie, the logs in the firepit crackling, Morkoth's low warning growl...

Eyes flaring open, Sandy's gaze darted around. Limping painfully into camp was Nûlkol, clutching his side. He halted in the space between Sandy and Brie, eyes slowly drifting from one to the other. There was nothing at all friendly in his face, and Sandy found herself pressing into Morkoth's body, seeking his protection.

"Where's mine, I wonder?" Nûlkol growled. "Who will embrace poor Nûlkol in the cold, cold night?" Settling his gaze on Brianna, he dropped to a crouch and crawled on hands and feet toward her. He looked like a huge spider. Ghrulagûrz, face contorted with hate, bolted upright and hovered protectively over Brianna's trembling form. Sandy met her gaze briefly; her friend was terrified.

"Ah, sweet thing," the menacing Uruk crooned. "Nûlkol will be kind. Nûlkol will please you. Nûlkol misses you _so much_."

With mounting horror and shock, Sandy realized he wasn't talking to Brianna.

Ghrulagûrz vaulted to his feet and went for Nûlkol's throat. Brianna curled up in a ball, covering her head as the two orcs battled nearly on top of her. Breaking free of Morkoth's loosened hold, Sandy scrambled across the ground to Brie, dodging big clawed feet. The roaring was deafening. Fixated on one goal, she made it to the other woman and dragged her trembling, sobbing form away from the combatants.

The fight woke everyone, including the younger ones. Razkaar squealed like a piglet and scuttled for cover. Thakûf retreated out of their way, but otherwise showed only curious interest.

Nûrzgrat, of course, was furious.

"What the _fuck_ is going on!" he bellowed. Stomping over, he grabbed each Uruk by the hair and yanked them apart. Nûlkol he threw to the ground. All he could reasonably do against Ghrulagûrz's rage was thrust an arm out to block him from further mayhem. Morkoth's strength was needed to subdue the huge Uruk by putting him in a chokehold.

"Somethin' going on?" Frûmâdûrz asked from the darkness outside the fire's light.

"Get back to your watch!" Nûrzgrat barked. "I don't know who the fuck started it, and I don't give a shit. You, get your ass over there. You, back to your woman. If I hear another peep out of _anyone_, I'm cutting throats. Am I understood?"

Though Ghrulagûrz snarled, he nodded, and Morkoth released him. Nûlkol laughed. Sandy shuddered at the sound, for it put her in mind of a hyena.

"Are you okay?" she asked Brianna. "Didn't get stepped on, I hope?"

"No, I'm fine," Brianna replied. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. "They just _don't_ get along, do they?"

"Not at all," Sandy agreed. "So what did Nûrzgrat say about him? When he whispered to you."

Leaning close to Sandy's ear, Brianna murmured, "He said Ghrulagûrz's name means 'broken club.' He's...well, he's impotent."

Sandy's eyes widened, and she looked hard at her friend. "Seriously?" Brianna just nodded. "So...I've got Morkoth's...little friend knocking at my back door, and you've got...nothing?"

"Nothing," Brianna replied. "Not a flicker. There is something so incredibly not right with him. If it kills me, I'll find out."

"Well, don't go that far," Sandy advised. "Before you launch a campaign, trying to fix _that_ little problem, maybe you'd better do the test."

Brianna's jaw dropped open, and she hissed, "I'll do no such thing! Why don't _you_ test Morkoth?"

"Maybe I will!" Sandy retorted. As camp settled back down, she shot one last glare at Brianna, then returned to Morkoth's side. In a matter of minutes, the crackle of the campfire was joined by multiple snoring orcs.

* * *

><p>"You are...not harmed?" Ghrulagûrz asked in an undertone. His breathing still hadn't settled down. Brianna was having a hard time relaxing herself, feeling his chest still heaving against her back.<p>

"I'm fine," she said stiffly.

"You are so small," he said uncertainly.

"Yes, and very breakable, so mind yourself," she snapped.

"I have displeased you." His voice was sullen.

Rubbing her forehead with an unsteady hand, Brianna shook her head. "No, it's all right. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed out." Laughing nervously, she said, "I've never in my life wanted to see anyone die, but in Nûlkol's case, I'll make an exception."

His chest spasmed briefly. It might have been a laugh, but Ghrulagûrz struck her as someone for whom laughter did not come easily. "Nûrzgrat will not let us kill him."

"I'm sure I don't know why," Brianna grumbled. "He scares the bejesus out of me. It's like...he has this aura around him that makes my threat detecting radar go haywire."

Gradually, Ghrulagûrz relaxed. "I will kill him one day," he said softly. It seemed to Brianna that he spoke as one swearing an oath.

"I'll cheer when you do."


	8. Morning Has Broken

**Morning Has Broken**

_February 26, 3019 - Elrohir, Elladan and Halbarad meet Aragorn at Helm's Deep_

"Tolkien is spinning in his grave as we speak," Sandy grumbled as she and Brianna trudged to the little copse of trees the orcs had established as their bathroom. Morkoth and Ghrulagûrz trailed along behind, keeping an eye out for threats. "He could probably power a small nation at this point."

"What are you talking about?"

Glancing behind her, Sandy lowered her voice to a whisper. "I rolled over in my sleep. When I woke up this morning, I was facing Morkoth."

"It's not like you could help it...," Brianna replied reasonably.

"Yeah, well, maybe I could have helped the fact that I had a handful of his ass." Sandy shivered, but damned if it was an unpleasant shiver.

"Oh my god," Brianna breathed, glancing at her friend. "What did he do?"

"Grinned at me, the bastard," Sandy replied without heat. "Didn't say a word, just...smiled. I think I went six shades of red."

"Was he...you know...hard?" Brianna asked awkwardly.

"God, yes," Sandy grimaced. "I'm starting to think he's like that all the time." Shaking her head to clear it, she asked, "So how was your night?"

"You're not going to believe this," Brianna said, checking behind them. The two huge Uruk-hai didn't look like they were paying particular attention to what the women were talking about. "He drifted off to sleep at some point, and it was like _boom_, there it was."

"There _what_ was?"

"His, uh, 'little friend' as you so eloquently put it, perked up."

"You're kidding."

"No," Brianna replied. "Weirdest thing. He woke up almost immediately, and it just...died."

"Issues," Sandy observed.

"_Big_ issues."

When they reached the copse, Sandy laid down the law. "Okay, boys, I don't care what the hell Nûrzgrat said, you're not watching us pee. You turn your backs and think about baseball or whatever it is that passes for a distraction around here, and don't you _dare_ peek."

The orcs just glanced at each other, shrugged, and obeyed. Making sure they were blocked from sight, the women took care of business.

Back at camp, Sandy noted that Razkaar was nowhere to be seen. Nûrzgrat was scattering dirt on the firepit while Frû obliterated the signs of their campsite. Thakûf and Nûlkol stood together outside the camp's perimeter, speaking in low voices, heads together. Sandy didn't like the look of that pairing.

Morkoth seemed to feel the same way, for he put a hand on both women's shoulders to stop them. In a low, growling voice, he said, "Watch out for Thakûf. Nûlkol uses him sometimes."

"For what?" Brianna asked, fear growing in her gut.

"Anything he thinks he'll get killed for," Ghrulagûrz snarled quietly. "He knows we won't hurt the younglings."

"And...Thakûf's okay with that?" Sandy hissed incredulously.

Lifting an eyebrow, Morkoth said, "He doesn't know any better. He'll do whatever you tell him."

"Oh shit," Sandy breathed, staring at the two whispering Uruk-hai.

"All right, boys," Nûrzgrat called, then added with a smirk, "and ladies. We're off." He did a quick scan and noted the runt's absence. "Where the fuck is Raz?"

"Sharpening his knife," Frûmâdûrz grumped, rubbing his lower back tiredly. "Wouldn't want anyone seeing _that_."

Sandy leaned toward Morkoth and whispered, "Is that another way of saying..."

"No," Morkoth replied, amused. "Raz doesn't like anyone seeing him do a lot of things. That's just one."

"So, he's really just...sharpening his knife."

"Yes."

"Well, I suppose even Freud said a cigar is just a cigar," she mused, shaking her head.

"Raz!" Nûrzgrat bellowed at the top of his lungs. The sound of his voice echoed across the plains and stirred birds from their nests in a panic. "We'll leave your ass behind if you don't get a move on!" Without waiting for the little orc to show himself, the leader headed off, the rising sun at his back. The rest just fell in behind.

Once again, the women were separated. Morkoth strode confidently near Nûrzgrat, apparently wanting to be close at hand should the leader need anything from him. Ghrulagûrz stalked to the rear, keeping all the others in his line of sight.

Brianna hugged herself, shivering from the early morning chill. After awhile, the huffing breaths of Razkaar on the run could be heard as he raced to catch up. Without a word to anyone, not even a complaint for having been forgotten, he fell in beside Thakûf.

"Must happen a lot," Brianna muttered to herself, slightly amused.

"What?" Ghrulagûrz asked in a low voice, tearing his eyes away from the others for a moment to glance at her.

Meeting his eyes for a second, Brianna was once again struck by the suffering she saw there. "Nothing."

"We amuse you," he said, and she couldn't mistake the bitterness in his voice.

"No, not...really," she said. "I just...well, my friends _frequently_ threaten to go on without me if I don't hurry up. I'm sort of...slow...about getting ready."

He frowned and looked quickly at her. "You did not delay us."

"True, but it's not like I had much to do," she explained. "There's no point fussing with my hair, I'm still wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday, there's probably no chance of a bath anytime soon... Sort of simplifies things."

"Bath," he said hesitantly. "You mean washing?"

"Yes," she said. "I assume you guys do occasionally wash, right?"

"Sometimes, yes," he acknowledged.

"Good," she said, then added in an undertone, "thank god."

"Razkaar and Thakûf do not wash," he mused thoughtfully. "They fear water."

"Can't say that I blame them, if the first thing they saw when they opened their eyes was a wall of it coming at them," Brianna agreed. "They'll probably get kind of ripe after awhile, though."

"Ripe?"

"Smell bad."

"Oh." He was quiet for a moment, then said, "If you ask it, we will wash them."

The image of the two youngest orcs being force-dunked into a stream, screaming bloody murder, flashed into her mind. "No, no, that's okay. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Master had many humans fighting for him," Ghrulagûrz said. "They did not like how we smelled."

"Humans are fussy creatures," Brianna replied automatically, then giggled a little. "Honestly, I haven't really noticed."

"We almost drowned in Isengard, getting out," the Uruk said hollowly. "It was...a good wash."

"I imagine it was."

"They do not like what we eat, how we eat, how we talk," he snarled. "Anything we do."

"Humans?" At his nod, she said bracingly, "I'm sure you're all an adorable bunch once people get to know you."

He slowly turned his head to fix her with an annoyed glare. "We are not...adorable."

Swallowing awkwardly, and feeling her cheeks heat up, Brianna shook her head. "No. Not at all."

Once more, he shifted his glowering stare ahead. Brianna was pretty sure he was mentally counting heads, making sure nobody was missing. Somehow, though, she didn't think he was acting the responsible rear guard. More like making sure none of them were sneaking up on his blind side.

It was unnerving, this Uruk's evident distrust of his traveling companions. She had thought he was just wary of that foul Nûlkol, but it seemed his paranoia encompassed all of the orcs.

"Tell me about...Nûrzgrat," she said, carefully watching his facial expressions. "He must be a good leader for all of you to follow him."

"He is our elder," Ghrulagûrz said. "And a good leader. He is wise." Brianna couldn't miss the evident respect the huge Uruk showed when describing Nûrzgrat.

"He reminds me of Sandy's dad," she mused thoughtfully. "The man's ex-military, so he's got this rough outer shell, but inside he's all squishy."

"That is not like Nûrzgrat," he said uncertainly.

"Well, probably not the squishy part," Brianna acknowledged. "I somehow don't see Nûrzgrat getting all misty-eyed over little kids."

"Hmph. He'd probably eat them," Ghrulagûrz snorted.

"Please tell me that was a joke," she said sternly.

"Yes. A joke," he replied.

"Because that's just gross."

The Uruk's burned face contorted with contempt. "As I said. Humans do not like what we eat."

"Well, if you eat your young, what do you expect?"

He looked at her as if she had said something truly offensive. "Not _our_ young."

"Oh my god, you're serious, aren't you?" Brianna said as realization dawned. "You...eat _us?"_

He nodded, lips curled in a sneer.

"So...that meat you gave me last night...," she said, feeling her gorge rise at an alarming rate.

"Rabbit. We won't be eating man-flesh again for a long while," he said, his tone unmistakably disappointed.

"Excuse me," she whispered. Stopping in her tracks, she retched.

After the unfortunate vomiting incident, there was a stony silence coming from the rear of the pack. Sandy longed to walk beside her friend, find out what the hell they talked about back there to make her throw up, but the polar opposite personalities of their keepers prevented that. Sighing, she kept pace with Morkoth's long strides.

Morkoth struck Sandy as being the strong, silent type. She had a feeling that the prior day's verbosity would likely not be repeated.

When they stopped to rest, which Sandy got the impression was for her and Brie's benefit, not the Uruk-hai's, she had a quick word with her friend before returning to Morkoth's side.

"This is going to be harder than I thought," Sandy muttered as she sat down.

"What is harder?"

"This," she said, gesturing helplessly around her. "I completely forgot about...some things."

"What things?" Morkoth asked.

Glancing uncomfortably at him, Sandy shrugged. "That you guys eat us. We're quite the delicacy, I suppose."

The huge Uruk chuckled. "We won't eat you."

"Very reassuring," she said sarcastically.

"We are not animals," Morkoth growled. "We know the difference between a mate and a meal."

"A mate?" Sandy hissed angrily. "I thought I made it clear that was out of bounds."

He grinned. In full daylight, the sight of a smiling Uruk was not at all comforting. "Your hand on my ass this morning says different."

"That was an accident, and you know it," she retorted through clenched teeth.

"I look forward to more...accidents," he said slyly.

"Smart ass," she grumbled.


	9. Testing the Waters

**Chapter 9: Testing the Waters**

"This'll do," Nûrzgrat finally growled. The sun was nearly below the western horizon, and the leader had dismissed half a dozen potential campsites before now. Sandy was ready to smack him upside the head if no one else would.

"Good," she muttered. "My feet are killing me."

The Uruk-hai set about their duties without being told. Frûmâdûrz dug a firepit while the youngsters gathered materials for a fire. Nûlkol disappeared into the gloom with one of the swords. Nûrzgrat surveyed the site, kicking the occasional rock out of the way.

Ghrulagûrz, apparently still aggravated by Brianna's reaction to their conversation, sat sullenly near the site of their new firepit. Morkoth glanced over at Sandy and smirked, then went to help Nûrzgrat clear the ground.

Left to their own devices for a bit, the women put their heads together and brought each other up to date. Brianna wasn't entirely surprised by the revelation of how Ghrulagûrz received his injuries, but the thought still disturbed her.

"I'm going to try it," Sandy said quietly after a moment, glancing toward her stoic keeper. "Test him."

"Let me know how far you get before you throw up," Brianna replied.

"Ha ha," she snapped. "He's not _that_ bad."

"No, of course not," Brie hissed. "He's exactly your type."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Alex."

"I thought we agreed we wouldn't talk about him."

"Gary."

"That's not funny."

"Patrick."

"That is _enough_!" Sandy hissed back a little too loudly. A few heads turned in their direction for a moment.

"Admit it, you like them tall, you like them...muscular," Brie pointed out. "If he didn't have such a...monster face..."

"Well, personally, I'm rather glad you've gotten one like Ghrulagûrz, as opposed to those wimpy little dregs you usually scrape up!"

"Wimp...What...? Arthur was _not_ a wimp!"

"Oh, please," Sandy replied, rolling her eyes. "Even _you_ could beat his ass into the ground, and you probably weigh ninety pounds soaking wet. Where you found that little guy outside of a high school, I have no idea. I didn't even think they _came_ that small after puberty. I can only _assume_ he had it where it counts."

Fuming, Brianna whirled around and stomped to the other side of the camp. Sandy mouthed a few mocking personal comments, then went over to sit by Morkoth.

Frûmâdûrz finished starting the fire, coaxing the flames high. "Fuck you all, I'm going to sleep. Better not be any repeats of last night."

Nûrzgrat snorted agreement. "I think I made myself clear on the matter. Oughtta be a nice, quiet evening. Enjoy yourself."

Returning to the camp, Nûlkol dropped the mangled remains of three rabbits in front of the fire. Sandy averted her eyes as the Uruk dressed them with unnecessary vigor.

Taking a deep breath, Sandy settled herself, and closed her eyes.

_We're lying together, and I'm pressed into his chest. I look over my shoulder at him. His hand touches my cheek, holding me there, looking at him. I can feel his heat, hear the purring in his chest. He leans down..._

Nearby, Brianna glanced over at her friend with no little annoyance. Let Sandy play her stupid 'testing' game, she thought. It was fun in high school. Not so amusing now.

Frowning, she noticed a change in Morkoth. His brow bunched in confusion, and he was looking around. He shifted his position uncomfortably.

_His mouth covers mine. So gentle as he strokes my cheek, his hand moving down over my neck. Caressing. I can feel it; it's like a hot wave running through my body. My lips part, and his tongue is there, tasting. The purr becomes a growl..._

Now she could definitely see the big Uruk's nostrils quivering, and his eyes locked on Sandy. Alarmed, Brianna almost got up to interrupt Sandy's test, when she noticed the affect wasn't isolated.

Nûlkol stopped what he was doing, his hands frozen, and pitched his nose in the air, nostrils flaring. He sniffed deeply, eyes widening, searching for the source. Nûrzgrat, too, was affected, though he looked more annoyed than aroused. Thakûf groaned, and immediately started untying the laces of his breeches. Razkaar, younger and less mature than the others, didn't know what to do.

_His hand, so warm and strong, is moving. It covers my breast, holds it firmly, kneads the flesh as his mouth on mine becomes urgent..._

The confusion didn't last long. Nûlkol's gaze slowly turned to Sandy. Licking his lips, he dropped everything and rose to a crouch. A lascivious grin on his face, the wiry Uruk took a few steps toward the oblivious woman.

"Sandy!" Brianna shouted, her voice pitched high with fear.

As if from a cold bucket of water dumped on her head, Sandy snapped out of her trance.

Before Morkoth could react, Nûrzgrat was across the camp and flattening Nûlkol.

"Get her outta here!" the chief bellowed. Morkoth didn't need telling twice. Staggering to his feet, he grabbed Sandy by the arm and dragged her off into the darkness. "Fuck!" Nûrzgrat roared as the lust-crazed Nûlkol nearly pitched him off in a desperate attempt to get at Sandy. Razkaar decided absence was the best way to go, and took off running into the shadows in the opposite direction. Thakûf freed his member and immediately set to work with a will.

"Ghrulagûrz!" Nûrzgrat yelled, but when the burned Uruk approached, Nûlkol switched focus and aimed for Brianna. "Never mind! Get her out, too! Move it!"

Grabbing Brianna, Ghrulagûrz headed off as well. Before she was out of earshot, Brianna heard Nûrzgrat cry, "Put your cock down and wake up Frû!"

Sandy was shaking violently as Morkoth frog-marched her away from the others.

"What's going on?" she asked breathlessly. "Where are you taking me?"

The huge Uruk didn't respond with more than a growl until they were well away from the camp, then he stopped and spun her around to face him. He was in a towering rage.

"What the fuck did you do?" he roared. She would have backed away from him if he didn't still have a tight grip on her.

"I didn't do anything! I was just sitting there!" she replied, panicking.

"Bullshit!" he snapped. "You did something. You ... you made me want to fuck you more than I already do." He shook his head. "You're still doing it! Stop!"

"I'm not doing _anything_!" she cried.

"I can smell it," he snarled. He breathed in deeply as if he couldn't help himself, as if whatever he was smelling was the most intoxicating scent in the world. Releasing her, he sank weakly to his knees. With suddenly renewed vigor, he grabbed her hips, dragged her forward, and buried his nose in the juncture between her legs.

Sandy nearly died of embarrassment, and tried to push him away. "What are you _doing_?"

"It's here," he growled, his voice muffled. His hands moved to cup her buttocks, holding her firmly in place.

She couldn't help it; his touch excited her. Then he hooked his clawed fingers into the waistband of her jeans and pulled her down.

"Oh god," she whimpered, fear taking over. "Don't. Please. You promised. You gave your word," she babbled, nearly in tears.

Whether because of her words or something else, Morkoth gradually came to his senses. He let go of her. Once released, she scrambled backwards out of his reach.

"What...did you do?" he growled, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

"I didn't do _anything_," she insisted again. Though he didn't fly into another rage, his voice was harsh and threatening.

"Your scent changed," he snarled. "I would have raped you. We _all_ would have. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to stop all of them. _What did you do_?"

Swallowing hard, Sandy lifted her chin stubbornly. "Where I come from, that sort of...behavior would be punished. A man who tried to use that as an excuse..."

"You are not in your world, and we_...are not...MEN_!" he roared. He always treated her with such gentleness that this display of his anger terrified her. It put her in mind of Alex, his rages, the things he did to her, the apologies and comforting that always followed...

Hugging herself and lowering her gaze, she muttered, "I'm sorry. I didn't know...I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't know you...the others...would...It was an accident..."

"Just...tell me what you did." He was calming down noticeably. "I do not understand. I never felt like that before. It was like...like a battle rage."

Before Sandy could even decide whether she wanted to reveal anything, they heard someone running toward them.

* * *

><p>"What is he going to do to her?" Brianna asked, voice quavering with panic as Ghrulagûrz steered her away from camp. The Uruk didn't even grunt in response as he dragged her along.<p>

Horrifying images of Morkoth assaulting Sandy filled her mind, nearly freezing her in place. Ghrulagûrz jerked her forward again, until the campfire was far in the distance. Then he turned on her.

"What did she do to us?" he hissed. He was shaking all over. "To _me_?"

Brianna expected fury, lust, hunger...anything but what she saw in him. Startled, she said, "What did she do to you?"

In answer, Ghrulagûrz grabbed her hand and shoved it into his crotch. It took her a moment to realize he was fully erect.

Shock and embarrassment nearly made her collapse, but he released her quickly. Sinking to his knees, Ghrulagûrz groaned and fumbled the laces of his breeches open. Breath coming fast and desperate, he took hold of his member and roughly stroked himself.

She couldn't tear her eyes away. The Uruk was practically in tears, seeming almost...relieved. In the back of her mind, she felt relieved herself, grateful that he chose to release his lust in this way, rather than by attacking her. But his tumescence didn't last.

"Stop it, Ghrulagûrz," she whispered. "Stop." Clearing her throat, she put a bit more force behind it. "_Stop_, please. You'll hurt yourself."

Wincing, Brianna knelt before him and grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from his softening penis. The look he gave her tore her heart. He looked as if all hope had left his world. Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck and tried to comfort him.

His reaction was just as sudden as the last time she touched him with gentleness. He lurched to his feet, spun, and ran, swallowed quickly by the darkness.

As his heavy footfalls faded, Brianna realized she was completely alone, and she had no idea whether the others had been successful in subduing Nûlkol. Shaking, she made a guess as to the direction Morkoth had dragged Sandy, and took off running.

Morkoth's thundering voice led her to them, but when she ran up, everything seemed to have calmed down. She thanked whatever deities were in charge of this world that Sandy didn't look any the worse for wear.

"Brie?" Sandy said with surprise. "Where's Ghrulagûrz?"

Pausing to catch her breath, Brianna shook her head, then gestured off in the direction the big Uruk had gone. "He...he ran off. I don't know where he is."

"Fuck!" Morkoth bellowed. Leaping to his feet, he took several steps after the other orc before reason returned, and he halted. Turning on Sandy, he snarled, "See what your witchery has done. Back to camp. _Move it_."

His anger had returned, though not as bad as before. Sandy contritely followed in his wake, hugging herself, her eyes on the ground before her. Brianna walked beside her friend.

"Pheromones," she offered quietly. Sandy glanced up, confused. Brie shook her head. "How far?"

"Second base," Sandy muttered miserably. "You can stop rubbing my nose in it any time now."

Morkoth suddenly stopped, and both women ran into his back. He turned on Brianna. "You knew of this?"

Glaring at Sandy and ignoring her vigorous head shake, Brianna replied, "Yes. It's a stupid game."

"Game?" the Uruk snarled, aiming a hostile glare at Sandy now. "You play dangerous games, woman. Amuse yourself some other way next time." Then he resumed marching back to camp.

"What the _fuck_ happened?" Nûrzgrat roared as soon as they emerged into the firelight. Between him and Frû, they managed to overpower Nûlkol. The leader was sitting on Nûlkol's back as if the younger Uruk were a sofa.

"Frû," Morkoth snapped, "Go get Ghrulagûrz. He's run off."

"What?" Nûrzgrat said, incredulous. "He _left_ her?"

"I'll bring him back," Nûlkol offered with a pained grunt. Nûrzgrat snarled and struck Nûlkol in the head.

"Go on, Frû," he snapped.

"Don't know why I always get the shit work," Frûmâdûrz grumbled, but he got up and headed off into the darkness.

Sandy wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. Her voice laced with apology and humiliation, choking slightly as tears threatened, she said, "I'm so sorry. It was an accident. I didn't mean anything. It's all my fault."

Startled, Brianna fixed her friend with an appalled glare. "How can you say that? It's no excuse for..."

"Shut _up_," Sandy snapped, shooting a warning look at Brie. "Let it go."

"But..."

"Not now," she hissed.

Throwing her hands up in resignation, Brianna gave ground for the time being.

Morkoth was visibly agitated, his earlier fury barely held in check now. Grabbing Sandy by the arm, he pulled her over to his spot by the fire and dragged her down to sit next to him. Afraid of him for the first time in two days, Sandy didn't protest or resist.

Nûrzgrat rose off of Nûlkol and snapped at him as the orc also lurched to his feet. "Get back to the coneys, boy. Cause any trouble, and I won't be so 'nice' next time."

Turning on Brianna, he growled in an undertone, "Stick by me 'til your keeper gets back." Then he stomped to the other side of the fire, not even bothering to make sure she followed him. He needn't have worried. Sparing a glance at Nûlkol, who licked his lips and looked her up and down, she hastened after the leader.

"Your friend," Nûrzgrat muttered when she sat down. "What did she do?"

He was like the stern parent, confronting his kids after bailing them out of jail. Nûrzgrat struck her suddenly as one with whom dishonesty did not go over well. Swallowing hard, Brianna whispered, "It's...something we used to do when we were kids. Just...a little...game. To see if we liked a guy."

"You set him off like a dog among bitches in heat?" the Uruk snarled, incredulous.

"No!" she snapped. "Men...aren't affected that strongly. They may pick it up, but they don't...go crazy." Glancing at his harsh glare, she shuddered. "I swear to you, we didn't know. I'm sure if we had, she would've...done it somewhere else."

"_What did she do_?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

"She just...imagined...him," Brianna mumbled lamely.

"Imagined him? Doing what?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "Kissing, I expect. Things went nuts too fast for anything else."

"Kissing," Nûrzgrat mused. "That is...what humans do. I think I've seen this." Turning suddenly to Brianna, he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to him, planting his mouth on hers in a quick peck. "That is a kiss?"

She was so startled and repelled she didn't have a chance to react before it was over.

"Don't know why that would start such a ruckus," he muttered.

Shuddering, Brianna surreptitiously wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "_That_ wouldn't have," she mumbled.

He shot her a look. She couldn't believe he even heard her. "Explain. What did she 'imagine' that was different?"

"You're asking me to read her mind," Brianna groused. "I couldn't begin to tell you the details." Sighing, she scuffed her toe in the dirt and glanced at her friend, sitting miserable and silent at her fuming keeper's side. "Kissing can be very...nice. With the right person. She just wanted to know if...if Morkoth was the right person."

"Hmph," he grunted. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean, 'right person'?"

Grimacing, she stared into the fire. "You're the one who wants little orcs running around."

His eyebrows shot up. "Ah!" he said suddenly, then grinned. "'Off the table,' was it?" Chuckling, he shook his head. "Back on the menu now."

Glaring at him, Brianna hissed, "_Nothing_ is back on the menu. Being attracted to someone and wanting to...," she snarled, then choked. "Two different things. Don't you _dare_ tell Morkoth to go for it."

"I'm not getting involved," Nûrzgrat grumbled. "More trouble than you're worth, you females. As if I did not have enough shit to worry about with this worthless bunch. Should have made the boys do what needed to be done and moved on."

Rolling her eyes, Brianna leveled a hostile glare at him. "You moron. You would _still_ have had to deal with us for nine months."

"Nine months?" he roared. Glancing around at the startled faces, he lowered his voice. "What the fuck takes nine months?"

"Babies, idiot," she snapped. "Women carry babies inside them for nine months before they're born. Duh."

Closing his eyes, Nûrzgrat lowered his head and sighed. "Morgoth's hairy balls. What did I do to deserve this?"

A scuffle interrupted them as Frûmâdûrz returned to camp with a furious Ghrulagûrz in tow. Shoving the bigger Uruk away from him, Frû addressed the camp at large. "I'm going to sleep. Anything short of a full company of whiteskins about to trample us to death will _not_ be a good reason to wake me up." Eying everyone with equal malice, Frû stomped to the fire and threw himself down next to Thakûf. The younger Uruk just looked at him, bewildered. "Touch your dick, _or_ mine, and I'll kill you," Frû snarled without opening his eyes.

Rising, Nûrzgrat roughly yanked Brianna to her feet and brought her to Ghrulagûrz, standing on the edge of the campfire's light. He did not make any move to protect Brianna from the obviously painful grip his leader had on her.

"Do it again," Nûrzgrat snarled, shoving Brianna at the big Uruk. He instinctively caught her, holding her against his chest. "And I get chains. I don't care where, I don't care how, I'll get'em, and you won't be leaving her side for the rest of your fucking life."

Turning toward the rest of them, he bellowed, "I don't want to hear one fucking word, I don't want to smell anything but coneys on the fire. You make a move on those females, I cut out your heart," he snarled at Nûlkol. Rounding on Sandy, who cringed under his baleful gaze, he growled, "No more of your cursed games. Understand?" Grabbing a fistful of raw rabbit flesh, he spun on his heel and stomped off into the shadows, grumbling under his breath, "Less of a worry out in the wilds than there is in the fucking camp."

Ghrulagûrz didn't look at Brianna when he let go of her. He kept his eyes down as he settled on the ground at the very edge of the firelight. Awkward and embarrassed for herself and him, Brianna gingerly sat next to him. It was much colder this far from the fire, and she hugged herself against the chill breeze.

No words passed between them for several minutes. Brianna watched Nûlkol finish preparing the rabbits, draping the meat on rocks to warm. Slinking like a cat back to its den, Razkaar cautiously returned, sidling up next to Thakûf and hugging his knees, wary eyes scanning the group.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. "For...touching you."

"S'okay," he mumbled after a moment. "I should not have...not in front of you."

Nodding, she dared a peek at his face. His anger had disappeared, replaced by sorrow. Hopelessness. She could not take her eyes off him, for some reason. Unexpectedly, the image flashed into her mind, shocking her into tearing her eyes away. He seemed startled as well, and shot a surprised look at her.

Swallowing hard, Brianna forced herself to think of knitting, data entry, making paper airplanes, _anything_ to quell the fluttering sensation in her lower regions.

"You, too?" Ghrulagûrz whispered incredulously.

Her eyes darted around to everyone in camp. It must have only been a momentary burst, not as strong as the sustained and intentional barrage from Sandy earlier.

For a moment, she saw herself kissing Ghrulagûrz. She hugged herself tighter in confusion.


	10. Surely You Jest

**Chapter 10: Surely You Jest**

Valier were not supposed to sweat, Vairë thought wearily. Nor were they supposed to have a day end with a desperate need for strong drink. Glancing into her scrying pool to make sure all was calm once more in the orc camp, the Weaver finally let out the shuddering breath that she'd held for what seemed hours.

She'd definitely felt it that time. A malevolent thought behind things. Not a random, experimental dalliance in mortal lives. There was purpose in it.

"You are weary," Mandos commented.

"I have fought a battle I never imagined fighting," she replied softly, rubbing her head. That terrible headache was still lurking behind her eyes, getting stronger each day as she worried over the fates of those mortal women.

"Explain."

Sighing, she said, "Someone is behind this. I could feel... a presence. Pushing things along."

Her husband waited patiently.

"I did not know which one to use," she lamented. "The protectors scattered. I had to settle on the leader."

"What went wrong?"

Vairë blushed, even in the presence of her love. "Whoever it is, they are using the...instincts of the orcs to their advantage. And I believe...forcing the women...to..." Blanching, she turned away for a moment.

"To what?" the Judge of the Dead urged.

"Desire them."

Mandos's brow slowly creased in a frown. "Mortal women," he mused. "Desiring orcs. What is Manwë's view?"

She threw her hands up helplessly. "He wants me to 'keep an eye on things.' I am tempted to seek out Lórien's aid in this. He is better suited to countering thought. At least _he_ can enter the orcs' dreams."

"I will speak with him." Tilting his head thoughtfully, he asked, "What do you think is the goal? Why make these women want such repulsive union?"

"I shudder to think. Just watching the vile creatures fills me with revulsion. They are crude and foul. Savages. Beasts. I cannot imagine _anyone_ looking upon them with favor."

"And you are certain these women do not, of their own free will?"

Startled, Vairë shot a haughty look at her husband. "How can you ask such a question? I do not _need_ to consult the minds of those women on such a matter."

Shrugging, he bowed and took his leave. Alone, Vairë pondered Mandos's question. If all that was required was females for...breeding...surely any woman of any land on Arda would suffice. The power behind the presence was certainly strong enough for such insidious seduction. Why, then, go to all the trouble of fetching females from another world? It didn't make sense.

Embarrassed to even contemplate the possibility, Vairë focused on Sandy's mind. Mortal minds were such a rat's nest of randomness...always a challenge to sift through the tangential thoughts, get to the heart of the matter...


	11. Where There's Smoke

**Where There's Smoke...**

Only the constant threat of Nûlkol made Sandy lie next to Morkoth after the whole pheromone fiasco. She couldn't bring herself to make contact with him, and her embarrassment cost her his warmth.

It was humiliating to have to accept the fact that the orcs couldn't really be held responsible for their instinctive response. Even assuming they could have controlled themselves, that would mean they had to have some experience with doing so. Nûrzgrat said there were no female Uruk-hai; when could these orcs ever have been in close proximity to an aroused female? With their acute sense of smell, what other response could she possibly have expected?

Hugging herself, Sandy shivered. If Nûrzgrat hadn't resisted, and Morkoth hadn't restrained himself, things could have gone so much worse. There wouldn't have been anything stopping a shark-like feeding frenzy that would likely have pulled Brianna in as well.

She shuddered. Brianna didn't deserve to go through that horror again, and Sandy didn't want to experience it even once. But things could have gone there, even after she all but promised Brianna that they would be fine. That Morkoth and Ghrulagûrz would protect them. Who, then, would protect the women from _them_?

"Come here," Morkoth said quietly behind her. "You are cold." She could still hear the strain in his voice.

"No," she said dully. "I wouldn't want to get you all worked up." Her snotty tone even made _her_ wince.

"Ghaashkarn... come to me. I am not angry anymore."

Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder at the orc. "What did you call me?"

He had the decency to look embarrassed. "Your hair is like fire. It is...different."

"So..._ghaashkarn_ means...what?"

"Hair of flame," he whispered.

"That's...nice," she replied uncertainly, but she stayed where she was. Giving in, the Uruk scooted closer to her, pressing into her back and embracing her waist. Sandy stiffened, but didn't resist him.

"You have not answered me," he said.

"You'll have to be specific," she snapped. "Which question did you want me to answer? 'What did you do,' or 'what _the fuck _did you do?' Because you'll get two different answers."

He seemed to ponder her words, then said, "I do not care, as long as you tell the truth."

It was a struggle, easing up on the Uruk. She had to force herself to release the tension in her shoulders and back by degrees. At least she was facing away from him. This would be easier if she didn't have to look him in the eyes.

"It's... something we used to do when we were younger," she said in a low voice, nearly devoid of emotion. "You just...imagine being with a guy you think you might like. See if it gives you a, uh, 'special feeling.'"

"Guy. You mean man."

"Yeah," she said, nodding.

"This is what you did, then? You thought of a man?"

"Not...exactly," she said, wincing in anticipation of his next question.

"What do you mean?" he pressed. "Not a man?"

"You, all right?" she snarled impatiently. "I was thinking of you."

There was a lengthy, uncomfortable silence.

"Special feeling?" he asked, clearly confused.

Sighing in defeat, Sandy realized she'd have to spell it out for him. Gritting her teeth against this new humiliation, she said, "Thinking about you... made me excited. When a woman gets excited, she... gives off a scent, I guess, similar to what other animals do when...uh...they're...interested."

"Interested in what?" he urged. If he were anyone else, she would have suspected him of faking ignorance just to make her say it. Rolling her eyes, she steeled herself for this one.

"Interestedinsex," she mumbled in a rush.

"What?"

"Interested...in..._sex_," she snarled.

"Sex," he said uncertainly.

"Mating," Sandy snapped. "Does that word work better for you?"

"So...," he said slowly, "you thought of me, and now you want to mate?"

"Don't be an idiot," she replied. "It would take a hell of a lot more than that..."

"Then explain to me," he snarled. "I do not understand females."

She swore under her breath. "It was just an example, all right? I don't want to...mate with you right this minute. About all I can say with any kind of confidence is... I wouldn't mind... I mean... Dammit. It's just a test, and it doesn't mean a damn thing. Just let it go."

"You make it difficult to 'let it go'," he insisted. "You tell me that thoughts of me make you want to mate."

"I didn't say I wanted to mate!" she hissed. "I said that... what happened to me, was like when animals... Look, just drop it."

"You are not an animal."

"The hell I'm not," she groused. "We're all animals. To be specific, humans have the same physiology as apes. If a female ape is in season, she gives off a scent to let the males know she's ready to mate, and they come running. Human females can control when they give off that scent, to a certain degree, usually by experiencing some sort of sexual arousal. The difference between orcs and men, as we learned this evening," she said sarcastically, "is that an orc can tell when this happens a hell of a lot better than some men I've known."

"I do not..."

"What don't you understand?" she hissed incredulously, turning slightly to look at him. "I thought about...you... I got turned on, you guys smelled it and freaked out. It's over. I promise you, there will be no more mind-fucks in the near future, so you can just relax. _Let...it...go_."

"Mind-fuck," he said, testing the words. "You imagined me fucking you?"

"Are you _deliberately_ being stupid? No!" she snarled. "I just...it wasn't even...never mind! Go to sleep, for crying out loud."

At first she thought she was coming dangerously close to really pissing him off. A warning growl was building in his chest, vibrating against her back. Then all at once, he relaxed. A low chuckle rumbled through him. "You're doing it again," he whispered in her ear.

"That would be the 'angry bitch' scent you're picking up," she snapped. But she knew he was right. His nearness, the topic of discussion stirring memories of their envisioned tryst... No, that wasn't anger.

"I don't think so," he murmured. Drawing in her scent with a deep breath, he let a low, feral growl ease out. "I do this to you." His voice was a mix of surprise, confusion, and delight. She trembled as his mouth opened, allowing his sharp teeth to graze her neck.

"I wish you'd stop," she whimpered. They were too close to the others. She could already see Nûlkol beginning to stir. "Morkoth, please!"

"Ah," he said, easing up. She hadn't realized how tightly he held her until his grip loosened. "That is why I stopped before. I smelled your fear. You are afraid again."

"Your friend over there looks like he knows when you're being naughty," she said through clenched teeth. "Like some freakish Santa Clause."

"You know he is not my equal," Morkoth said quietly, without concern. "Let him prowl if he wakens. You are safe." He nuzzled her neck just behind her ear briefly. "Your fear is of me. Explain this."

"Morkoth, if you walked up to a woman here in Rohan, what would she do?"

She felt him shrug. He seemed to do that a lot. "She would scream and run."

"So... you have to ask? Why I'm afraid of you? Really?"

"You do not scream," he said reasonably. "You do not run."

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she replied. "I can't survive here without help. You guys are the only option. I could quote all kinds of stupid sayings on the subject – 'Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.' 'Better the devil you know than the devil you don't.'"

"We do not hold you," he asserted. "You are free to go whenever you like."

"Well, next time I see a taxi, I'll wave it down," she snapped.

"Do you fear me?" he asked. Now there was worry in his voice. "I will not harm you. Now that I know of your... scent changes... I can resist."

"Reassuring," she said sarcastically. "Yes, I do fear you." It was actually making it more difficult now, speaking to him without looking him in the eyes. Swearing under her breath, Sandy turned over to face him, and promptly wished she hadn't. In the flickering firelight, his expression of confused curiosity was downright sexy, if such an adjective could apply to an orc. Swallowing hard, she said awkwardly, "I have... established that... I would be open to... certain... intimacies... with you." Clearing her throat, she found she couldn't hold his gaze any longer; his intensity was too probing, too...invasive. "Given that I don't know much about...orcs... I have to assume that the pace I would like to proceed with would not match your preferred...speed."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"If I kissed you, that would be _all_ I'm ready to do," she said stiffly. "You, on the other hand, would likely consider it a green light to climb all the way up my ass."

His brows shot up, and he blinked a few times. It was rather comical, and she laughed a little.

"You do not want me...up your ass. What makes you think I would go there without permission?"

She shivered in his arms, becoming aware for the first time that he had embraced her while she babbled. "I assumed."

"Hmph," he snorted. "You assumed wrong. I have given my word. If you do not consent to my touch, you will not receive it."

"An hour ago, you would have done more than touch me," Sandy pointed out.

"An hour ago, I did not understand females as I do now."

"Yeah, you're a bloody expert," she said without heat.

"What is a kiss?" he asked quietly.

"You're going to make me show you, aren't you?"

"If that would help me understand...yes," he said, amused.

"Son of a bitch," she breathed. But she found she couldn't. Whether it was the underlying fear of what the others might do if she fired off another volley of pheromones, or her disbelief in Morkoth's calm reassurance that he would not force his attentions beyond what she allowed, or the fact that she had only known the Uruk for two days that had been full of stress and fear, not to mention _orcs_, and even in her own world, fiddling around with a different species would have been frowned upon, she realized it was a much bigger hurdle to jump than she'd thought.

Drawing back from him a few inches, Sandy patted his chest. "I think... I'll just tell you. Kissing is pressing the lips to...well, anything, really. Could be another pair of lips...," she said, pausing as her eyes darted to his fang-filled mouth.

"This pleases humans?" he asked.

"Yeah. Quite a bit, in fact." She couldn't deny that the idea still made her insides go all wobbly. But being interested and being able to take that leap were two different things.

"I look forward to it, then. When _you_ desire it."

* * *

><p>Perhaps it was the stress of the last couple of days that finally took the wind out of Ghrulagûrz's sails. As he lay on the ground, pressed against the angular body of his female, he slept.<p>

Sleep was not a welcome state for the Uruk. It was not something he sought out, or embraced when it found him. Rather, he dreaded it, as he dreaded being taken unaware, or being alone, or being with other orcs, or waking up to a new day.

It had been five days since the need for sleep last bested him. That was just before the trees came, and the world went mad. It came upon him now like a crippling poison, dissolving his will to resist and forcing his eyes closed.

Ghrulagûrz dreamed of fire.

* * *

><p>The Uruk's shaking and twitching startled Brianna from her slumber. Ghrulagûrz's strong arms held her in a vice-like grip. He held her so tightly against him she almost wondered if he wished to envelop her in his skin.<p>

"Ghrulagûrz," she whispered, but he didn't hear her. Biting her lip, she realized that raising her voice this late at night would likely set _someone_ off like a bomb, even if Nûrzgrat was already awake on watch duty.

"_Ghaash_," her keeper whimpered, caught in the grip of his nightmare. "_Ghaash-izg. Ghûlbat-izish! Dalgat-ta! Dalgat-ta!_" Growing alarmed, Brianna laid her hand on the Uruk's arm wrapped around her middle.

"Ssshh," she breathed gently, stroking his arm. "It's all right, Ghru, you're okay." His grip was too firm for her to turn her body to face him, so she did what she could, whispering soothing words over her shoulder and caressing his cloth-covered arm. She could feel his muscles bunching beneath the fabric. Unsure what else she should do, she grabbed the first thought that came to her mind.

"Warm kitty, soft kitty, little ball of fur," she sang softly. This time, he calmed noticeably, only groaning a little bit and shivering for a moment. "Sleepy kitty, happy kitty, purr, purr, purr."

Ghrulagûrz took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Tension seemed to drain away from him. Just to be on the safe side, Brianna sang the simple song again. He drifted into a deeper, more contented sleep. Cuddling her closer, his hand slid up her body and covered one of her breasts.

Brianna froze in panic, afraid to move. She carefully placed her hand over his, and gently pulled his hand away. She only got a few inches when he grunted in protest, freed himself from her light grip, and replaced his hand on her breast.

"Dammit," she breathed, and tried again, only to get the same result. At the risk of waking him, when he clearly needed sleep more than any of them, she realized she'd just have to suck it up. It took her a moment to realize there were clawed feet a few paces away. Startled, she looked up and met Nûrzgrat's amused gaze.

"I'd say the menu's gettin' crowded," he commented in a low voice. "Maybe Morkoth's got the right of it." Without explaining his strange statement, the Uruk leader strode off into the darkness once more, shaking his head in wonder.

Just as humiliated as she would be if her father caught her boyfriend's hand down her pants, she shivered against her keeper's body. To her surprise, she didn't feel the urge to recoil from the Uruk. She covered his hand with hers again, but this time she didn't try to remove him. She found that Nûrzgrat was right; Ghrulagûrz _was_ much softer than she expected. Though she could feel the scarring from the burns, his skin felt like a man's.

* * *

><p>Translation:<p>

Ghaash-izg. Ghûlbat-izish! Dalgat-ta! Dalgat-ta! - I'm burning. Help me! Put it out! Put it out!

Song Lyric: "Warm Kitty," written by Edith Newlin (best known for its use in TV's _Big Bang Theory_ – Yeah, Brie's a fan! But being the musical purist she is, she prefers the traditional lyric over the Cooper family's version.)


	12. Musing and Pondering

**Musing and Pondering**

Things were definitely getting interesting, Nûrzgrat thought to himself. There was his second, curled up with a female. _Human_, of all things. Made him wonder whether this...honor thing the boy kept going on about actually held water.

Well, if nothing else, self-restraint seemed to be working wonders. For one, even though the original agreement dismissed the possibility of mating, now _both_ females seemed to be heading in that direction with their protectors. It was enough to make him fall over laughing. Only a couple of days of keeping their hands to themselves was all it took.

Chuckling, he glanced over at Ghrulagûrz. The boy certainly got over his 'don't touch me' problem fast. Still, even Nûrzgrat wasn't fool enough to think the Uruk was cured of _everything_. Too much happened to him, for too many years. Scowling, Nûrzgrat made another round of the camp's perimeter.

He never thought he'd pick something like Razkaar over Nûlkol on the question of breeding. Snorting, he glowered at the vicious beast sleeping next to the fire. The leader didn't much like the idea of _that_ one fathering whelps. He had enough to worry about in the one, without having a litter of them to contend with. Sighing, he acknowledged that he should have listened to Ghrulagûrz in the first place and left the bastard behind or, failing that, slaughtered him the first day out of the valley. Now he couldn't bring himself to do it, though he was sorely tempted now that the women had joined them.

Nûrzgrat turned his eyes eastward, back the way they had come. He'd certainly been out in the world more than this lot, but it didn't make things easier. He wouldn't feel safe until they left the plains of Rohan behind them. But then, would they ever be safe _anywhere_? Were his plans even realistic? Would they be left in peace anywhere in this world? He had no idea how the war would play out; what with one thing and another, he didn't think it really mattered which side prevailed. Men would kill them because they were orcs. Sauron's orcs would kill them because they were _Saruman's_ orcs. If they were caught with the females, there would be no mercy from anyone, with one side punishing the Uruk-hai for having them, and the other just coveting them for their own lustful needs.

He had to admit, he rather liked the ladies. Pain in the ass they may be, but they were holding up well under the circumstances. Accepting his boys as much as they had was also a point in their favor. Several points, actually. He'd been on raids in western Rohan; so had Ghrulagûrz. Both had been used for breeding, as had Nûlkol. That the boy could be anywhere close to gentle with a female after all that was a miracle. Nûrzgrat didn't even want to contemplate how he'd act, if he had taken on the additional responsibility of a female. He knew he couldn't be trusted then, and he had no confidence that he could show as much restraint as Morkoth now, but then _that_ one hadn't buried his sword in female flesh, as it were. Boy's in for a treat, he thought with amusement.

Forcing the wistful thought from his mind, Nûrzgrat stomped on his rounds. He'd be no better than that sick fuck, Nûlkol, and deserve what it got him, if he tried to assert himself now where the females were concerned. He'd picked Morkoth as protector knowing full well the boy's obsession with mannish ways. He wasn't the type to share. Ghrulagûrz may have once been more generous, but a great deal of his old manner had been obliterated over the years. He'd latched onto the skinny one like a drowning Uruk. Which, in retrospect, Nûrzgrat had to acknowledge he was. Maybe they _all_ were, each in their own way.

Coming within sight of the camp once more, Nûrzgrat's gaze flicked over the sleeping forms, taking a quick headcount. All were still as they had been, except...

Frowning, the leader looked around. The skinny girl was missing. No one else was, to his relief. Rolling his eyes, he pitched his nose in the air and sniffed her out.

It didn't take long to find her. She was sitting on a hillock just beyond the firelight, looking up at the sky.

"What're you doing out here?" he snarled angrily as he approached. She jumped at the sound of his voice, but relaxed when she realized who it was.

"I couldn't sleep," she explained.

"Stupid reason for leaving your keeper's side," he grumbled. "Lucky I found you before Nûlkol." Bristling with fear, she looked wide-eyed at the Uruk. Sighing, he sat down next to her. "He ain't awake, you're safe."

They sat in silence for several minutes. It was actually kind of nice, if weird. "What're you lookin' at?" he finally asked.

"The stars," she replied, pointing up at the sky. The Uruk glanced up with little interest and shrugged.

"What about them?"

"We can't see them very well, back home. There's too much light."

"What, the sun shines all the time?"

She laughed a little. "No. We don't like the dark, I guess. So we have a lot of light down on the ground. There aren't many places you can go that don't have streetlights or city lights..." Her eyes went skyward again, opened wide with wonder. "I never knew there were so many."

"Guess I never thought about it," Nûrzgrat muttered, not sure he wanted to bother with it now either.

"You probably wouldn't," she replied. "You see this all the time. I'll bet you wouldn't know what to do with yourself if you looked up at the sky and there weren't any stars."

Grunting with amusement, he said, "I don't think I'd care." She just shrugged.

"Nûrzgrat," she said tentatively, and when he looked at her, she was chewing on her lip, uncertain. "Is Ghrulagûrz... okay?"

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Has something... happened to him?"

"Lots of things have happened to him," the Uruk allowed. Remembering how furious Ghrulagûrz was when Nûrzgrat revealed his... inadequacy, just to get some cursed peace in the camp for once, he figured any other disclosures would be met with more severe retribution. "It ain't my place to say."

Brianna nodded, letting it go for now. A chill breeze blew by, and the woman shivered.

"Better get back to his side," Nûrzgrat advised, standing. "And I wouldn't go wandering off in the dark by yourself. You wake his ass up next time you want to take a walk."

"He needs the sleep," she said as she followed the Uruk back to camp.

"Aye," Nûrzgrat agreed. "He does, at that." Glancing at her, he remembered how she had soothed her protector when his nightmares came. He'd never seen anything like it, couldn't even put a name to what it stirred in him. It wasn't jealousy, for he certainly didn't require such treatment, not in the way that Ghrulagûrz obviously did. It was just... seeing kindness extended to one of his own... from someone who should be an enemy... an expression so alien even among the Uruk-hai...

Bah. Shaking his head, he saw the woman back into the arms of her protector, then strode off once more on his rounds.


	13. Self Defense Workshop

**Self-Defense Workshop**

_February 27, 3019 – Aragorn and the Grey Company arrive at Dunharrow; Frodo and Sam meet Faramir in Ithilien_

"These things are _heavy_," Sandy complained as she hefted the thick, hook-bladed scimitar once more.

Morkoth straightened and examined the blade he held, turning it over, testing its weight. Shrugging, he resumed his stance. "Your arm is weak. You will get used to it in time."

"Will that be before or after you gut me?" she grumbled. Sighing, she took hold of the hilt with both hands and circled the Uruk warily. He chuckled.

"I have sworn myself to your protection," he said, feinting to her left, then driving against her right side. At the last moment, he swung the sword wide, using the momentum of his body to stagger her. He caught her and pulled her against his chest, smiling down at her. "I will not gut you."

"Yay," she snapped sarcastically. A mischievous light coming to her eyes, Sandy suddenly ducked out of his arms and spun. Her sweeping leg caught the Uruk in the shins, knocking his feet out from under him. With a surprised cry, Morkoth crashed heavily to the ground.

"I'm more of the hands free kind of fighter," she said with a grin, offering him a hand up. He took it, then yanked her down on top of him. Rolling, he quickly pinned her to the ground. Her brow creased with worry. "Don't you dare," she breathed.

"I know better," he replied quietly, then nuzzled her neck.

"Yes, you know better, you just choose to be a naughty orc anyway, is that it?" she said tightly even as flutters erupted in her gut.

"That is it." He chuckled and nipped her earlobe.

"Are you aware of my knee?" she asked unsteadily, raising it slightly to illustrate. He halted, feeling the pressure between his legs.

"You would not dare," he growled.

Grinning, she pressed a little more firmly. "Gal's gotta protect herself against big, nasty orcs, doesn't she?"

Rolling his eyes, he lurched to his feet and helped her up. As they resumed Sandy's lessons, Brianna shook her head. She was sitting not far away at Ghrulagûrz's side. It was a rare moment of freedom from the rest of the 'gang.' Nûrzgrat took the other boys hunting, leaving them to their own devices. It was the first time Brianna had ever seen her keeper look anywhere near relaxed. He didn't seem to have any memory of his nightmare when he woke with a start that morning, but had remained silent ever since.

"I'm not sure why she's bothering," Brianna said quietly, half to herself since Ghrulagûrz hadn't shown any signs of responding to conversation. "It's not like either one of us could actually _use_ those damn things, even if we had to."

"She does not want to be helpless," Ghrulagûrz growled in an undertone. Brianna nearly jumped out of her skin.

Recovering herself, she replied, "Neither do I, but I know my limits."

"Do you want to learn?" he asked. "Not the sword. Too heavy. I can teach you...other things."

Turning slightly, careful to avoid looking at him lest his current talkativeness end abruptly, she said, "I would be... interested in anything you wish to teach me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his face relax into something that might almost pass for a smile. It didn't look like an expression he was accustomed to.

The tall, lanky Uruk lurched to his feet and walked over to some packs on the ground and rummaged a bit. Finally, he came up with a couple of long-bladed knives and brought them back. Brianna rose warily, apprehension on her face.

"I'm not sure," she said hesitantly. "Couldn't we use sticks or something?"

He smirked. "We won't fight with them. I'll show you how to throw them." In one fluid motion, he flipped one of the blades in his hand and launched it at a nearby tree. It stuck in the bark with a solid _thunk_ and quivered for a few moments.

"Wow," Brianna breathed. "Good one."

He ducked his chin and looked away. He almost seemed embarrassed by her praise, yet pleasantly so.

Ghrulagûrz's instructions were mostly physical, guiding her hand in holding the blades properly, adjusting the way she stood, even how her hips aligned with her shoulders for greater power. He seemed much less shy about touching her, or being touched. Whether that was because of the last couple of nights they'd spent in close proximity, or because the intrusive presence of the other Uruk-hai was absent for once, Brianna couldn't tell. For whatever reason, her own nervousness seemed to have drifted away with his, and she felt almost... comfortable. Even when his large hands held her hips.

"You learn quickly," Ghrulagûrz said when she managed to stick the blade for the first time. The tree trunk only held the knife for a second or two before the shallow cut released it, but it was the best she'd done so far.

"I thought I was going to be useless," Brianna said happily, waving her broken arm. "Thank you, Ghru. I appreciate this." Again, he shrank from her praise. To cover his awkwardness, he carried on with the lesson, advising her softly when needed. She found that he was more apt to speak, and touch, when he was behind her, where she couldn't see his face.

By the time the other Uruk-hai returned laden with several game animals apiece, both women were solidly on their way to being halfway decent in the use of the orcs' weaponry. Because they had stayed behind, Nûrzgrat put the two big Uruk-hai to work dressing the carcasses. Squeamish about such things, Brianna kept her distance, sticking by Nûrzgrat. Sandy, on the other hand, joined in and was soon just as bloody as Morkoth.

"I would not have thought you could stomach this," Morkoth commented as he skinned another rabbit and handed the rest to Sandy. She began stripping the meat from the bones the way the Uruk had shown her.

"My cousins live on a farm," she said. "During one of the recessions, my dad was out of a job, so we went out there to get some inexpensive food sometimes. Dad wasn't about to take charity, but he'd do the butchering or clean the barn. Got us kids to help out, too. So yeah, I've had my hands in guts before. It's just been a long time." Grinning at the Uruk, she said, "It's not so bad when you don't have to meet my dad's standards."

Morkoth's brow furrowed and he stopped. Noting his expression, Sandy asked, "Something wrong?"

"What is...a dad?"

"Oh...um...a dad is...well, he's...," she said awkwardly. "I'm not going to have to give you 'the talk,' am I? You're familiar with the birds and the bees?"

"I do not know what you are saying."

"All right," she said quickly. As she was beginning to learn, the Uruk-hai didn't have much in the way of sex education. From what Brianna had said when she mentioned the length of gestation to Nûrzgrat, it didn't sound like they knew more than the bare essentials, and few of those. Greeeaaat. "Okay. A dad is a father. Do you know what a father is? Ah. Okay. A _father_ is the man who... uh... well... as they say, 'it takes two to tango.' You need a male and a female to make a baby. The male in that... relationship... is the father. Understand?"

His brow furrowed even more, and he stared at the ground. "Did I have a father?" he asked quietly. She wasn't sure if he was asking her, or thinking out loud.

"If Nûrzgrat wasn't kidding, yes, you did," she said gently. "A mother, too. That would be the female, the one who carries the baby inside her and gives birth."

"Carries," he repeated. "Why?"

"Well, when... the male's... uh... seed is planted in the female, it joins with her... egg, and an embryo is created. It's very, _very_ small, so it stays inside her until it grows enough to survive outside of her, then it's born."

"It...grows," he said. Now he was beginning to look concerned. "How large?"

"That depends," she replied. "I think I was a nice, comfortable seven pounds, but one of my cousins was nine and a half. My aunt nearly pulled her husband's arm out of the socket trying to push him out!" Sandy laughed. "Then I had another cousin who had twins. That's two in the oven. She just said, 'to hell with it' and got a c-section." Glancing at Morkoth, her amusement faded. "Are you all right?"

"Does it...hurt?"

"Having babies? Yes, it hurts a lot. That's probably why so many women in my world won't go near the delivery room unless there's the promise of really, _really_ good drugs. Around here, though, I imagine they just have to pretty much deal with it."

"I do not want to cause you pain," Morkoth said seriously.

"That's... reassuring," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't think you should worry about that right now, though. Things may not even make it that far."

Shaking himself, he nodded. "You are right. You and I... it does not make sense. None of this makes sense." But his scowl only deepened, and he turned away from her. Pulling a fox over, he viciously cut off the tail in one swipe.

Reaching over, Sandy put her hand on his arm, and he stopped again. "It doesn't make a lot of sense, you're right," she said softly. "But sometimes good things... don't. I've found that it's an unreasonable expectation, most of the time."

"Nûrzgrat wants us to mate," he said awkwardly, unable to look at her. "I do not know how."

"It's easy," Ghrulagûrz chimed in. As usual, his lengthy silences made everyone forget he was even there. "Stick your cock in between her legs and rub till you come."

"Um," Sandy said, annoyed, "there's a bit more involved than that, you know."

The burned Uruk shrugged. "Don't know what else could be."

"Word of advice," she snapped. "Don't say anything like that to Brie. She'll kick your ass."

Ghrulagûrz glowered at her. "She could not kick Razkaar's ass."

"Fair enough, but she _could_ send your balls up into your throat, so I'd keep my big, stupid mouth shut if I were you."

"Tell me, then," he snarled. "What else is involved?"

"You could give half a shit about her, for starters!" Sandy hissed. "There's all kinds of things you can do so she enjoys it too. It's not all about you and _your_ needs."

Both Uruk-hai looked at her as if she had grown a second head.

"What's _that_ look for?" she asked.

"Females... enjoy it?" Ghrulagûrz asked incredulously.

"If you're not acting like a selfish asshat about it, yeah!" she cried, exasperated. "Good grief, where _did_ you learn about mating?"

Shrugging, Ghrulagûrz replied, "Raiding in western Rohan. We took females all the time."

Sandy shuddered violently, and cringed away from the big Uruk. She had to fight down nausea. "You _definitely_ do not want to tell Brie about that. And that was _not_ mating. That was rape."

"What is the difference?"

"There is a difference," Morkoth finally broke in. "What you did was rape, Ghrulagûrz. The females did not want you to touch them, but you did anyway. It is only mating when the female allows it."

"Listen to him, he knows what he's talking about," Sandy said, nodding. Lowering her voice, she leaned toward them. "Look, don't say anything to Brie about this, but just so you know where she's coming from, she's been raped before. It was a really awful one, too. She wasn't the same person afterwards. The only thing that made her... okay was that she put the bastard behind bars. You scare the crap out of her, big as you are. So ease up, okay?"

"Someone...hurt her," Ghrulagûrz said slowly.

"Yeah. Very badly."

"I will not," he insisted.

"Good to know." Turning her attention back to the rabbit in her hands, she said, "You might want to skip the whole 'mating' subject with her, just to be on the safe side."

"Hmph," Ghrulagûrz snorted. "Do not worry. There is no need." He couldn't imagine why he'd been chosen for her in the first place.

"Has this happened to you as well?" Morkoth asked.

"No, thank god," she said, sighing. "I'm the other statistic, with the 'beaten up by your boyfriend' crowd."

The Uruk-hai exchanged a bewildered glance. "What do you mean?" Morkoth asked.

"A guy I dated awhile ago. He had control issues. Guess I didn't like being controlled." Shrugging, she said with a slight grimace, "You may have noticed."

"I do not understand," Morkoth probed. "What is 'boyfriend' and what did he do to you?"

"A boyfriend is sort of a... 'practice' mate, I guess. Sort of a 'try before you buy' deal. Alex wanted me to be totally dependent on him for everything, and when I wasn't, he'd..." Her throat closed, and she was suddenly rendered speechless. How she had even gotten _this_ far was a mystery, considering she didn't feel particularly 'over' what had happened in those days.

"He'd what?"

It took a conscious effort to push away the feelings of helplessness and fear that always came with her memories of Alex. Taking a deep, shuddering breath and letting it out slowly, Sandy said calmly, "Oh, you know. Punch me in the face. Knock me into walls. Kick me in the ribs. Cuh...cut me with a knife. That sort of thing."

The two Uruk-hai sat in stunned silence for several moments, staring at her in horror. She glanced at them and did a double-take. How in the world could they look shocked when one of them so glibly spoke of raping women not two minutes ago?

"You say... your... mate did this to you," Morkoth said carefully.

"_Practice_ mate, but yeah. Who else would?" she asked.

"Is this... common?"

"Not especially, no," she replied. "More than you'd think, but not _terribly_ common. Why?"

"It is... surprising," he replied.

"Why would it be surprising? Humans can be just as foul as anyone else." Laughing humorlessly, she went on, "I should tell you about the Spanish Inquisition some time. That would curl your hair."

"I would expect such things of an orc," Ghrulagûrz said slowly. "We are not... gentle. I do not think we would treat a female we had taken as a mate in that way, though. It does not make sense."

Morkoth shook his head in agreement. "No, it does not. But I do not believe it is a 'good thing' that does not make sense."

* * *

><p>Briana wasn't so sure she'd picked the better seat, now that she thought about it. On one side was Nûrzgrat, grumbling under his breath about how he 'gave you lot plenty of time' and 'what the fuck is taking so long.' On the other, Frûmâdûrz was trying to teach Thakûf how to throw dice or something. Razkaar had suddenly decided that Brianna's and Sandy's shoes were a source of unreasonable terror, so he was off cowering someplace, leaving Nûlkol with nothing better to do than stare at her. He didn't even have to make any of the lewd faces he usually did; just having his eyes on her was enough to keep her immobile and terrified. Like a deer caught in headlights.<p>

With nauseating clarity, the scene from _Gone With the Wind_ where Scarlet was sitting among a group of suitors vying for her attention at Twin Oaks came swiftly to mind, only her suitors were dark-skinned orcs, and they weren't offering to fetch her refreshments.

"I cannot figure it out," Nûlkol said quietly. Brianna stiffened at the sound of his voice. All sorts of venomous creatures flitted through her mind when she heard that son of a bitch speak. "There is so little of you. Not even... a mouthful." Now he licked his lips and grinned.

"Nûlkol," the leader snarled, "take it somewhere else. Nobody wants to hear it."

He grunted in response. "Something was taken from me, and I _will_ have it back." Narrowing his eyes at Brianna, he said, "Of course, I am open to negotiations."

Brianna's gaze flew to Ghrulagûrz. He was deep in conversation with Sandy and Morkoth, oblivious to what she was enduring. Somehow, she didn't feel that even Nûrzgrat and Frûmâdûrz combined would be sufficient protection, especially if Thakûf was on Nûlkol's side. Assuming Frûmâdûrz even _took_ her side, if it came down to a fight for her.

"I'm warning you, boy," Nûrzgrat said. "I'm not too tired to kick you across the camp."

Nûlkol snorted dismissively. "If Morkoth _or_ Ghru challenged your leadership, you would fall. You are old and weak."

"Are _you_ challenging me?" Nûrzgrat growled, leaning forward.

The wiry Uruk waved him off. "Of course not. I respect you, Nûrzgrat. I only tell you that the _other_ two... well. I would watch them, if I were you."

Brianna was definitely wanting to escape now. She was practically wedged between two of the most threatening Uruk-hai, with only Nûrzgrat's presence giving her anything like a margin of safety.

Nûrzgrat barked a short laugh. "They are the _least_ of my worries, you dumb fuck. Why don't you do something useful like find us a water source instead of flapping your lip?"

Rising, Nûlkol's oily gaze slid over to Brianna. "I have had what you have not. I will have it again," he hissed, his expression malicious. With those puzzling words, he turned and marched off.

"What did he mean by that?" Brianna asked Nûrzgrat.

The leader shifted uncomfortably. "Never you mind. You gonna believe anything that comes outta his mouth?"

"I suppose not." The foul Uruk's words were baffling, and made her very uneasy.


	14. The Inevitable Bath

**The Inevitable Bath**

"Come _on_," Sandy begged.

"No." Brianna turned her back on her friend. "You're the one who had to jump into a pile of dead animals, not me."

"You're starting to get a little stinky too, you know," Sandy grumped.

Whirling around, Brianna dropped her voice to a hissing stage whisper. "You heard what Nûrzgrat said! _They_ have to be with us!"

Sandy rolled her eyes. "Didn't you ever go skinny dipping?"

"Not with monsters, I didn't."

"It's only Morkoth and Ghru. It's not like the whole bunch of them are invited," she said reasonably. "I'm sure Nûrzgrat'll give them something to do."

"What, take them hunting again? Why don't you slip him a twenty so he can take the boys to a matinée?"

"Look, I don't want to do this alone," Sandy said, worry creasing her brow. "He... god, he turns me on. I don't know why. I don't want things to...get out of hand."

"Your dad would flip out, that's why," Brie snorted. "So would damn near everyone _else_ you ever knew. Probably every single person in _this_ world, too."

"Ha ha, very funny," Sandy snapped. "I don't do _everything_ for shock value, you know."

"No, you've restrained yourself quite admirably so far," Brie sneered. "I've been cringing, just waiting for you to relax enough to scare the hell out of me."

"Please, Brie-Brie," Sandy pleaded, using her favorite endearment, even though it always made Brianna even madder. Because of where they were, however, it was a reminder of home, and softened the woman instead.

"I suppose...," she sighed. Rolling her eyes, she allowed Sandy to gleefully drag her over to their keepers, standing awkwardly apart as the women 'consulted.'

After a quiet word to Nûrzgrat, which raised his brows into his hairline with amusement, the foursome headed off to a pool Nûlkol had discovered not far away that was fed by streams coming down from the southern Misty Mountains.

Ghrulagûrz was noticeably anxious. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun was shining brightly. When they found the pool, there were not enough trees casting shadows to hide him from _her_ eyes.

Morkoth had no misgivings about stripping, in spite of the damages he had sustained over the years. As soon as they arrived, he peeled off his tunic and flung it aside.

"Whoa, he wasn't kidding, was he," Sandy said with alarm when she saw the Uruk's back. "That must have hurt like a son of a bitch."

He only shrugged, and took off his breeches. Brianna averted her eyes, but Sandy couldn't, not until the Uruk had almost completely submerged himself in the water. Shaking herself, she started unbuttoning her shirt.

Now that they were there, Brianna's hands shook too much to disrobe, not that she could have easily done it anyway with one arm splinted. Even though she knew the water would be ice cold, the thought of a bath was very inviting.

"Sandy, a little help, please?" she finally said, her voice quaking. Sandy had unbuttoned her shirt completely, but still wore it. Her lacy white bra peeked out as she came over.

"I keep forgetting about your arm, Brie," Sandy said as she unbuttoned her friend's shirt for her. "Does it hurt much?"

"I'd kill a small child for an aspirin," she said through gritted teeth.

"Gracious, don't waste it on a kid," Sandy said with a laugh. "Kill that heap of shit, Nûlkol."

"I'll remember that," Brianna replied, stealing a glance at Ghrulagûrz. His eyes kept flicking toward her, though he kept his head bowed, arms crossed. He'd made no move to join them in the pool. Morkoth, on the other hand, was scrubbing his hair unconcernedly. "I don't think he wants me to see what he looks like," she whispered.

Without turning, Sandy nodded. "Nûrzgrat said his whole body was burned. He's probably embarrassed."

"What happened to Morkoth?"

Sandy laughed humorlessly. "'Got whipped,'" she growled in a fair imitation of the Uruk's deep voice. Sandy helped her friend ease out of her shirt. Brie immediately hugged herself protectively. Exasperated yet still sympathetic, Sandy sighed. "Hold on to your shorts," she breathed, then stripped her own shirt off and waited for the inevitable explosion.

She was not disappointed. Morkoth was so startled he lost his footing on the slippery rocks at the bottom of the pool and went under completely with a huge splash. Ghru slid right off the tree trunk he was sitting on and hit the ground with a loud _whump_.

"Oh, it gets better, guys," Sandy warned, then slipped out of her jeans. Standing there in her underwear, she held her arms out and slowly turned. "Get it over with. Have a good, long look."

"Don't be a bitch," Brianna grumbled, removing her own jeans awkwardly. Shaking her head with annoyance, Brie tested the water hesitantly with a bare toe. It was _freezing_.

"A bitch, am I?" Sandy said behind her, then shoved. With a shriek, Brianna fell face first into the water. Sandy held her nose and cannonballed in behind her.

Coming up for air, Sandy took a vigorous splash to the face from an infuriated Brianna, then swam over to Morkoth with a grin.

"You have... paint on your skin," Morkoth said uncertainly. "I have not seen such colors."

"They're tattoos," she said, dunking her hair and working the tangles out. "Do you like them?"

"They are beautiful," he said thickly. While she was arched backwards, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, mouthing her wet neck, though he didn't pierce the skin. "_You_ are beautiful, my ghaashkarn," he murmured.

More than ever, his embrace set off a flurry of pleasant fluttering sensations through Sandy's body. He was naked, and pressed against her. Somehow, her cotton panties and bra didn't feel so much like a protective barrier anymore. Still, her hands left her hair, and her arms encircled the Uruk's neck. He raised his head and looked down at her.

For a moment, Sandy almost kissed him. He was right there, so close. So frighteningly _real_. Faltering, she slipped out of his grasp and treaded water backwards.

"Sorry," she mumbled, embarrassed. Morkoth looked disappointed, but accepting. Turning, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Brianna tried to ignore the two of them as she attended to her own ablutions. When her back was turned, and Sandy and Morkoth were busy with one another, Ghrulagûrz quickly stripped and crept into the water up to his shoulders. Brianna noticed him and approached warily.

"I'm glad you joined us," she said gently. He couldn't look her in the face, bowing his head so deeply his blunt nose almost touched the water.

Brianna glanced at Morkoth and Sandy, talking quietly very close together at the other end of the pool, and realized she'd get no help from that quarter. Turning back to Ghru, she said hesitantly, "Could you... wash my hair? I can't. My arm..."

He looked alarmed, as if she'd asked him to remove one of his hands.

"Please, Ghru," she begged. "Sandy's useless while she's sniffing around Morkoth. Just... get the tangles out, please?"

Ghrulagûrz grunted a laugh. "_He_ is sniffing around _her_, not...," he began, then abruptly closed his mouth and said no more. But he nodded.

Turning, Brianna lowered her hair into the water and got it wet, then backed toward Ghrulagûrz. Even knowing it was coming, she still flinched slightly when his hands touched her hair. And his fingers slid in among the tendrils. Though he was awkward, his movements halting, he massaged her scalp carefully, mindful of his claws. Closing her eyes, Brianna felt a shiver run through her that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.

His fingers worked slowly from the care he was taking. Withdrawing one hand, he hesitantly drew the back of a finger down the ridge of her ear. Her breath quickened for a moment, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, inviting him to continue his caress down her neck. He let his finger slide down her wet skin until his hand rested on her shoulder.

Brianna's knees gave way, and she fell back against the Uruk's chest. He instinctively took hold of her shoulders to steady her. A shuddering sigh came from her as she reached behind her and placed her hands on his bare hips. Ghrulagûrz was trembling, confused, but desperately in need as he embraced her. Her head rested on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he descended, clamping his mouth over her throat and sinking his teeth in.

Brianna's eyes shot open, and she cried out as she struggled to escape him. There was a brief scuffle as Morkoth and Sandy came to her rescue. Brianna clung to Sandy, sobbing hysterically and shaking violently.

"Why did you do that?" Morkoth roared, shoving Ghrulagûrz backwards. Sandy leveled a hateful look at the burned Uruk over Brianna's shoulder.

Ghrulagûrz scrambled out of the pool, not caring now that they could all see him if they bothered to look. Grabbing his clothes, he stormed away, and was soon swallowed by the trees surrounding their secluded pool. Turning, Morkoth watched the women climbing out as well, huddled together, shutting out any possibility of his intrusion.

"It's okay, he's gone, it's all right," Sandy soothed, rocking her friend. "I'm sure he didn't mean to scare you."

"He _bit_ me!" Brianna wailed brokenly. "He fucking _bit_ me!"

Directing an angry glare at Morkoth, the only available Uruk at the moment, Sandy snapped, "Maybe _you'd_ like to explain what the hell that was for?"

Morkoth left the pool and sat next to the women, dripping wet. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he said, "It is not our way, if the Uruk-hai even _have_ ways with females. It is a snaga way. It is... a mating scar he gave you."

Horrified, Brianna turned away from Sandy and vomited.

Rubbing her friend's back, Sandy gave the Uruk a disgusted look. "That's just lovely. If you _ever_ try something like that, I'll murder you."

Rising to his feet, Morkoth pulled his breeches on. "I will go find him. Do not leave the pool." Then he left.

Brianna's movements were jerky as she fumbled her clothing back on, heedless of how wet she still was. She even pushed Sandy away when she tried to help.

"Brie," Sandy said gently, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea..."

"Drop it," Brianna snapped. "Just...forget it. Forget all of it. I can't do this. If that...thing comes near me again, I'll kill him with his own fucking knives."

* * *

><p>Morkoth found Ghrulagûrz huddled in the shadow of a tree, arms covering his head, knees drawn up, shaking and rocking on his haunches.<p>

"You stupid fucker," Morkoth growled, standing with his feet apart and his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Where did you learn _that_? It is not our way. It is certainly not _their_ way."

Ghrulagûrz slowly raised his head. Morkoth was startled to see tears in the burned Uruk's eyes. "I did not think. I _could_ not think," he rasped, jaw clenched as he fought for control.

"You have hurt her, you must fix it," the Uruk continued mercilessly. "Get off your ass and get back there. Beg her forgiveness on your knees if you have to. If she asks for your blood, _give it to her_."

Bowing his head in shame, Ghrulagûrz nodded and slowly rose to his feet. With shaking hands, he pulled his clothing back on. Then he followed Morkoth back to the pool.

As they neared, they heard the women talking.

"I don't care if I freeze to death, I'm not letting that monster touch me ever again!" Brianna cried, her voice trembling.

"I'll talk to Nûrzgrat," Sandy said. "Maybe... maybe he'll take care of you. I know you're not too fond of Frû, and the young ones are pretty worthless..."

"I don't want _any_ of them coming near me, don't you understand? They're horrible, vicious beasts! That son of a bitch probably wants to _eat_ me now."

Morkoth glared at Ghrulagûrz, whose shame deepened as Brianna hurled insults at him. Grabbing Ghrulagûrz by the arm, Morkoth shoved him into the open.

Brianna immediately jumped behind Sandy when she saw her attacker stagger from the thicket with Morkoth.

"Keep that thing away from me!" she shouted, pointing at Ghrulagûrz. Morkoth threw the offending Uruk to his hands and knees on the ground.

"There are none as strong as us to protect you," Morkoth said evenly. "Beg, _pushdug_."

Ghrulagûrz raised his eyes miserably to meet Brianna's, and winced when he saw what awaited him there. Her expression was a mix of fear, disgust, horror...hatred. "Forgive... please..."

Sandy glanced at Morkoth, then stepped closer to Ghrulagûrz. Leaning down and shoving an accusatory finger in the Uruk's face, she snarled, "You _ever_ do anything like that again, and I swear I'll make you regret it." Then she moved aside, sweeping her arm toward Brianna. "Start groveling, you piece of shit."

Ghrulagûrz slowly crawled forward, his eyes locked on Brianna's bare feet. Once he reached them, he leaned down and pressed his forehead to the tops. He almost wished she'd take advantage of his closeness and kick him in the face. It was better than he deserved. "I...am...sorry," he said, his voice halting as he fought to hold back a roar of grief, for he believed her lost to him now. "I will not do that again. I promise. Please. Forgive me. I...I will not harm you anymore. Please. I am sorry. Forgive me, I beg of you. _Please_." Tears were streaming down his face as the words tumbled out, and he found he was desperately gripping her pant legs.

Just to see if there was any hope for him, Ghrulagûrz looked up again. Brianna's face was turned to the side, her eyes squeezed shut. One hand covered her throat where he had marked her, and he could see a thin rivulet of blood running down between her breasts, inside her shirt. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to taste her sweet blood once more. His weakness disgusted him. Shaking his head, he tentatively reached up to take her hand. Her eyes opened and she stared at him.

"Please," he breathed, then pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "Please."

"I want you to promise me," Brianna said shakily. "Promise me you will never, _ever_ do that again."

He vigorously nodded his head. He held her hand as if it were a lifeline. "I swear it."


	15. Acts of Contrition

**Acts of Contrition**

Brianna couldn't sleep, not with Ghrulagûrz so close. Not anymore. It was only somewhat satisfying that, upon their return, Nûrzgrat had flown into a towering rage when he learned of the Uruk's misdeed. She winced anew, recalling the beating Ghrulagûrz received, making no effort to defend himself. His passivity must have fueled a primal need; after only moments of hesitation, both Frûmâdûrz and Nûlkol joined in.

Shuddering, she gingerly touched her throat, and reminded herself that he deserved what he got. All of it. She had to forget, now, how his caress had melted her, how the feel of his body had sent warm currents through her when she leaned against him, the contours of his hips when she touched him... It was ruined, wasn't it? Surely the moment was ruined now. He crossed a line. He went somewhere he shouldn't have gone. Not even his fellow Uruk-hai were on his side.

Yet... when Nûlkol took advantage of the situation, making a grab for Brianna, Ghrulagûrz had risen with a swiftness that shocked her, as if the punches and kicks of his fellows were no match for his unflagging devotion to her safety.

Ghrulagûrz retreated even further into himself than before, once things settled down, not that Brianna had any wish to speak with him. She kept a stony silence, not even deigning to grace him with a glance, making damn sure he knew he was _not_ forgiven. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

For the remainder of the day, every time Nûrzgrat passed, he backhanded the Uruk in the head, and Ghrulagûrz took it without protestation or challenge, not even a growl of warning. Brianna wondered how long that would last.

Of all nights for Nûlkol to be on watch duty, why did it have to be tonight? She couldn't bring herself to lie in Ghrulagûrz's arms, could barely stand to have him within a yard of her at the moment. The prowling Uruk seemed to circle round their side of camp far too often, glaring at her through the darkness. Every once in awhile, he came too close by Ghrulagûrz's estimation, and a warning growl would rumble out of him. But otherwise, all was fairly quiet. Even the usual susurrous of Sandy and Morkoth's flirtation had stilled as they both drifted off to sleep.

Brianna envied her friend. Morkoth was far more stable than the fount of misery she'd been saddled with. Never mind that it was his evident pain that attracted her interest, both clinically and emotionally. She wondered once more what had happened between Ghrulagûrz and Nûlkol. It hit her hard in the face all of a sudden; were they lovers? Had the two Uruk-hai been intimate at one time, and now the rejected one was jealous of her intrusion? The things Nûlkol had said earlier that day would seem to support the theory.

But why the hatred? Ghrulagûrz leveled a huge amount of it in Nûlkol's direction, more than Brianna would expect of anyone who had once been that close. Even some of the shattered members of relationships burst asunder did not have _that_ much animosity for one another.

How could it be, then? Unless... _he was never alone_. Ghrulagûrz's snarled words came back to her, and she trembled. No. Not him. Not someone as big and strong as Ghrulagûrz. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. She slowly turned over and looked at him.

Ghrulagûrz was lying on his back, hands tucked beneath his head, staring at the star-filled sky. His face was wet. For a moment, she pitied him. Sandy told her orcs don't weep, yet he had shed so many tears today...

Seeing her move, the Uruk slowly turned his head to look at her. His face contorted in pain at the sight of her, and he quickly looked away. "You did not go to Nûrzgrat," he said hollowly.

"He didn't want to be burdened," she said quietly. "I'm _your_ toy."

He winced as if she'd struck him. "Not a toy."

"What am I, then?" she snarled. "You touch me with such... gentleness, then you rip my throat out. What would _you_ call me?"

"You are...," he said, then faltered. Swallowing hard, his voice dropped to a whisper. "You are my queen."

There were a million things he could have said that would not have surprised her more. Recovery from the shock took her several awkward moments.

"Making you king, I suppose."

"No," he growled. "I am nothing."

"Why did you bite me, Ghrulagûrz?" she asked. "I gathered from everyone's reaction that it isn't something... you people do. What made you want to hurt me?"

"Did not want to hurt you," he insisted. "Just... claim you," he muttered awkwardly.

Brianna grimaced with disgust. "You were _marking territory_?" she hissed. He nodded miserably. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "You are a worse piece of shit than I thought."

"I will never be worthy of you," he whispered, his voice shaking as grief took him. "No matter how many marks I put on you. I was a fool to think..." His voice broke, and he shuddered with the effort to suppress his urge to howl.

"Yes, a fool," Nûlkol hissed as he slithered closer. How he sneaked up on them without Ghrulagûrz noticing was a mystery. Abandoning her earlier revulsion, Brianna nearly vaulted into Ghrulagûrz's embrace, wrapping her arms around his torso and barely shivering when his arms encircled her in return. He sat up and glared at Nûlkol over her head.

Squatting in front of them, Nûlkol sneered. "You cannot claim a female when you are not free to do so. How many claims have been made on _you_? Has she seen the scars _you_ bear?" Turning his malevolent gaze on Brianna, he softened his voice. "Reject him, lovely one. He is not for you." The Uruk's yellow eyes drifted down her body, seeming to strip her clothing off in the process. "There is one more worthy before you. One who has conquered. One who has claimed. One who would take pleasure in your screams."

Horrified, she clung more tightly to Ghrulagûrz, feeling the Uruk's tension. Yet he said nothing, did nothing.

Until Nûlkol reached forward and grabbed Brianna's arm, attempting to pull her from her keeper's grasp.

Once more, the camp erupted as Nûlkol provoked another battle. Brianna scampered out of the way, straight to Sandy, who blearily pulled her close. Morkoth yawned and watched the spectacle. Razkaar was beginning to grow accustomed to the violent interruptions and merely scooted a bit farther away. Even Thakûf only sighed with annoyance.

Nûrzgrat was livid. He had watch duty the night before, followed by a full day of keeping the boys out of trouble and away from the paired Uruk-hai and their females. Now he couldn't even get a decent night's sleep without things getting out of hand.

"If this means I have to take watch tonight," Frûmâdûrz growled as he rose to his feet, "I get to kill Nûlkol, right?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Nûrzgrat roared, approaching the combatants with clenched fists. Reaching in, he grabbed Nûlkol by the scruff and yanked him free. The wiry Uruk lost his balance and toppled over backwards, rolling dangerously close to the campfire. In his rage, Ghrulagûrz started to charge, determined to push him the rest of the way. Nûrzgrat thrust his chest out and blocked the tall Uruk's move, then grabbed Ghrulagûrz's arms.

"Frûmâdûrz," the leader snarled, never taking his eyes off Ghrulagûrz, "take that piece of shit down a notch." He paused, listening as Frûmâdûrz set to with a vengeance. The sound of Nûlkol getting his ass kicked never failed to please Nûrzgrat. "You, boy, have just earned yourself night watch. You _and_ your woman. Get going." Releasing Ghrulagûrz, he shoved him away. Turning to Brianna, he calmed himself down. "It ain't your fault. Sorry about this. You gotta stick by him, you know."

Brianna took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then nodded. "I know."

"I hope I don't have to remind you of your manners, boy," Nûrzgrat snarled at the Uruk's back.

They walked the perimeter in silence, Brianna hugging herself and shivering in the cold. Her eyes kept darting to Ghrulagûrz, wanting to ask but afraid of his reaction. He was obviously still angry about the confrontation, and likely the things that were said. In spite of what he'd done, she found herself drawn to him once more.

"Stop, please," she said, and he halted, though he didn't turn around. "He's done more than hurt you, hasn't he?"

Ghrulagûrz stiffened, his tension rising. He began to tremble, then all at once, everything drained from him, and he sank to his knees. Though he didn't weep, he hung his head in shame. "Yes." With sudden and brief ferocity, he yanked his tunic off and just sat there, great heaving breaths betraying how close to the edge he was. "Look. It should please you."

His tone stung, but she looked at the back of his neck. With mounting disgust and horror, her eyes continued to search, finding so many claw and teeth marks on the Uruk's back and neck... So many. Some so old they couldn't possibly have been inflicted by Nûlkol.

"_I_ am the toy," he snarled bitterly, then his voice went dead. "They learned long ago. My skin... too soft. I feel pain. More than anyone. They sought sport with me, caused me pain just to hear me... Until someone... and then the rest..." He shuddered, and fell forward on his hands and knees. His stomach lurched, threatening to empty. Once begun, it seemed he could not halt the release of his pain. His voice choked and shook, sometimes hitching on a sob. "Fighting did not stop them. Begging did not stop them. I...I begged Sharkû for mercy, but he laughed. He _laughed_. He told me... told me to stop... stop whimpering like a child and... take it. Accept it. _Enjoy_ it. Then he... he told them all... told all of them... told them to use me."

Now he did vomit. He vomited so hard he feared his stomach would turn inside out and come out his mouth. Even after there was nothing left, not dinner, not bile, nothing left at all, still he heaved until he collapsed, howling and sobbing in a fetal ball.

Brianna covered her mouth with both hands, very close to joining him on her knees as her gorge threatened. After putting her rapist in jail, she had healed by helping other women, volunteering as a counselor. She had heard some of the most horrifying stories, many which made her own experience pale in comparison. Not once had she spoken with a man who suffered a similar fate, though she knew such things happened. For some, it was a joke, what went on in prisons, the only thing she could think of at the moment that compared with Ghrulagûrz's tale. Men trapped in a hopeless, unforgiving place, at the mercy of those who preyed on weakness, the authorities turning a blind eye...

How much more horrible it must be when coupled with an orc's cruelty.

Going to her knees behind him, she touched his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Ghru," she whispered. He flinched at her touch, but didn't pull away. His reaction tore her heart, knowing its source now. Urging him to sit up, she embraced him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her body against his bare back. He quivered with the instinctive urge to flee from even a gentle touch, and she could feel the tension in him, the lack of trust even in her. She couldn't imagine what it must be like, forced to face your assailant every day. Even if he must have been accustomed to it, for now she realized Nûlkol wasn't the only one. She wondered if any of the others...

No, they couldn't have. While he didn't appear to trust any of them, he only specifically despised Nûlkol. She didn't think he would be any less wary of the others if they'd even once raped him. But to live every day of your life, surrounded, never knowing when the next assault was coming, or by whom, and having no way to protect yourself... How could anyone live like that? she wondered.

Squeezing him tighter, her arms crossing over his chest, she murmured in his ear, "I'm sorry, so sorry. I forgive you, Ghru. I forgive you." Tears streamed from her eyes, and she pressed her wet cheek to his.

They remained still for several minutes as Ghrulagûrz's shame and grief finally spent themselves, and he registered her words. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he said quietly, "Nûrzgrat will take you. Or Frûmâdûrz."

"No," she said softly. "It's okay. Just... no more biting, please?"

"No more biting," he agreed, letting his breath out with a sigh of relief.


	16. Uncomfortable Truths

**Uncomfortable Truths**

_February 28, 3019 – Gandalf and Pippin ride for Minas Tirith; Frodo, Sam and Gollum leave Ithilien; Aragorn and the Grey Company pass through the Paths of the Dead_

Sandy's eyes narrowed curiously when she saw Ghrulagûrz and Brianna chatting by the fire as the camp slowly came to life. Her friend was obviously exhausted, but seemed more at ease with her keeper than the prior day's events had made her last night. This put Sandy in an awkward position; she woke up ready to treat the burned Uruk like shit for his behavior at the pool, and now she didn't know what to do with her ire.

Thank goodness for bathroom breaks, though.

"So I gather things are better?" Sandy whispered to her friend while helping her take care of business.

"I think so," Brianna said. "At least... I know more about... what's going through his head."

Sandy frowned at her friend's awkwardness. "Is... is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she replied too quickly. "Everything's fine."

"Care to share?

"Um... not this time, I think," Brianna said quietly. "I'll have to, uh, invoke doctor-patient confidentiality here."

"As if," Sandy snorted. "Maybe in a couple more years, you can pull that crap."

"I mean it," she replied seriously, "not this time. He's in a lot of pain, and I'm not going to make it worse by... Just drop it, okay?"

"I worry, you know," Sandy insisted. "I want to know you'll be okay. Yesterday... I wanted to kill him for doing that to you."

"So did I," Brianna nodded. "I'm still a little... It's okay. We talked. I forgave him."

"Hmph. Must've been a hell of a talk."

"You have no idea."

The last twenty-four hours had taken such a toll on Brianna that she had to take a nap after lunch. Ghrulagûrz took her to the edge of the campsite where some trees cast a bit of shade, and sat with her. Brianna curled up next to him with her head on his lap and slept. The Uruk rested his hand on her shoulder and leaned back against the trunk of the tree, watching the sunlight play on the branches overhead.

Glancing in their direction, Sandy wondered again what was said. Ghrulagûrz looked almost peaceful. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to her instructor. Morkoth was in a squirrelly mood, so she needed to keep on her toes.

"Your mind wanders," he chided, bringing his sword around in a controlled arc. Almost too late, Sandy roused herself and blocked him.

"Just trying to figure out what the hell happened last night," she grunted, pushing against his sword arm. Her weight was almost immaterial compared to his strength, but he obligingly stepped back as if she'd actually moved him.

"Is it not obvious?" Morkoth replied. "He told her."

"Told her what?"

"He was _globatish_ in Isengard," the Uruk growled. "I had forgotten. It was not something I sought." He stopped the lesson, letting his sword swing loosely.

"What's a... _globatish_?" Sandy asked quietly. It didn't sound at all nice.

Sighing, he rubbed his jaw. "In the man's tongue, it means 'bucket of filth.'"

Raising an eyebrow, she said, "Um... that's kind of rude. Why would anyone call him that?"

"It is not a name you call someone, it is a purpose," he clarified. Morkoth obviously didn't like the idea, nor did he relish telling her about it. "There are no female Uruk-hai. We did not always have... other females available... for pleasure. Sometimes, males... served that purpose. Some willingly, others..."

"Was Ghrulagûrz... one of the willing ones?" Sandy whispered.

Morkoth shook his head uncomfortably.

"Oh my god," Sandy said, rubbing her eyes. "How long had it gone on?"

Shrugging, he said, "Probably most of his life. He is... different. His skin..."

"Are you telling me," she said carefully, "that he has raped, and been the victim of rape, all his life?"

"Yes."

"Jesus," she hissed. She had to make a conscious effort not to look at the Uruk by her friend, lest he realize he was the subject of conversation. "I'm going to _kill_ Nûrzgrat."

"Why? I do not understand."

"He knows about this, doesn't he?"

"Of course he knows. He is older than all of us. There is not much he does _not_ know of us."

"Dammit."

"What is wrong?"

Fixing Morkoth with a glare, she said, "I may not have been a psych major like Brie, but I'm smart enough to know she's in deep shit if that's all he knows about."

"What do you mean?"

"Son of a bitch, Morkoth!" she hissed, trying desperately to keep her voice down. "He's already tried to rip out her throat! He obviously only knows how to be violent. If things keep going the way they're going, he's going to attack her, thinking he's being, I don't know, romantic or something. _He doesn't know how to be anything else_, and she's going to pay for it."

"Are you saying he will be like Nûlkol?"

"In a way, yes," Sandy replied. Sighing, she rested her hands on her hips. "It's obvious even to me that he cares about her. I get that. His intentions may be better than that piece of shit's, but the end result would be the same."

"Do you not think Brianna would teach him a gentler way?"

"I'm not sure she'd want to, if she knew what _he's_ done. I sure as hell wouldn't."

"Sandy," Morkoth said quietly, unable to look at her. "I have done it, too."

"You're... you're kidding."

"No."

"You said you didn't know how to mate. Were you lying to me?"

"I did not lie," he said. He slowly met her gaze. "I do _not_ know how to mate. None of us do. Our Master did not _want_ us to know such things. Gentleness did not serve his purposes."

"But... you've been so... you haven't..." Sandy struggled not to scream or cry. This was not something she wanted to know about him, just when she was beginning to really like him.

"I did not like doing it, Sandy," he said. "And I did not boast of my deeds. I do not think anyone here knows what I have done. I am not proud of it." He winced for a moment. "I remember their faces. Their tears. Whenever I could, I refused."

"Why did you, then?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"I followed orders. I did what I was told."

She shook her head. "No. Nûrzgrat said that when you disagreed, you spoke up. You didn't just _do it_." Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt tears pour down her cheeks.

"When I was ordered to slaughter children, I disagreed, and I was beaten," he said softly. "When I was ordered to cut men's throats who had done us no harm and carried no weapon, I disagreed, and I was beaten. When I was ordered to defile females, I disagreed, and I was beaten. Sandy, it did not matter. The children were still slaughtered, the men were still slain, the women were still raped. What would you have me do? I cannot change what happened. I wearied of being beaten when no purpose was served. So sometimes, I gave in. I followed orders."

The memory of Morkoth's body at the pool flashed into her mind. She'd been unable to look away, not because his was a toned, muscular, utterly _hot_ body, but because Nûrzgrat hadn't exaggerated. Morkoth's back, buttocks, and legs were torn to shreds from years of merciless flogging. How could she begrudge him the desire to be spared such treatment once in awhile? Even if it meant he had to take part in acts of depravity as a result.

Still... it was a hard pill to swallow. Very hard.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"A man would tell the truth. He would not keep secrets from his... from one he cares for."

"You are not a man," she pointed out stiffly.

He stared at her for several moments, then bowed his head. "If I could change what I am to please you, I would do it."

"Thank you... for your honesty, Morkoth," she said brokenly. "This will take me... some time to get used to. Don't... I don't want you to... Just... give me some space, okay?"

He nodded miserably. "I will not touch you anymore."

* * *

><p>Nûrzgrat didn't know what the fuck happened. Tensions between Ghrulagûrz and his female were always present, running high at times but mostly staying pretty steady. Then the stupid boy went and pulled a snaga marking move on the woman, and they went through the roof. <em>Now<em> they were getting all cozy and snuggly all of a sudden, but still there was that ever-present don't-touch-me-okay-just-a-little tension under the surface, guaranteeing the woman would not be on her back anytime soon.

Then there was Morkoth and Sandy. Nûrzgrat was nearly giddy, expecting a consummation at any moment, the way they were carrying on, then out of the clear blue sky, _those_ two weren't speaking to one another.

What the hell did he have to do to get that cursed nine month nightmare kicked off?


	17. Climb Aboard the Dreamweaver Train

**Climb Aboard the Dreamweaver Train**

"You're having me on, right?"

"No, brother," Mandos said wearily, glancing at his wife. Vairë stood stiffly, a haunted look on her face as she stared ahead.

Lórien shifted uncomfortably on the cushions strewn on the floor of his chamber. "Curunír's batch, are they?" he asked.

Vairë nodded, dragging her eyes to the Dream Lord's and shuddering. "Do you know much about them?"

Quirking his eyebrows for a moment, he shrugged a little. "They have very dark dreams. Very tortured dreams. At least, they did."

"What do you mean? You no longer have insight to them?"

"No," Lórien said with a frown. "There are so few left. You know what has happened, of course. Now there are only a handful. This group you are concerned with, a few others scattered about... I must say, without Curunír's influence, they have begun to... calm, I think is the right word."

"Please explain," Vairë said stiffly. "I cannot imagine such a thing."

"Well, you have to understand orcs in general, I think," the Dream Lord sighed, rising. He crossed the floor to a table and began pouring wine for his guests. "Melkor's 'creations' were, as you know, those of the First Born that he corrupted and tortured. In the many centuries and generations since that time, they have forgotten what they were. They cannot go back, cannot remember. Curunír, in his arrogance and impatience, sought to crossbreed orcs for specific traits. Traits he could only get from men and elves."

Vairë covered her mouth with her hand and put the other to her stomach. "I do not wish to hear this," she whispered, making a valiant effort to keep her breakfast down.

Lórien gently urged the Weaver to sip her wine. "It is foul, what was done, I agree. But it is interesting what has come of it." Handing another goblet to Mandos, he reseated himself, motioning for the others to join him. "Curunír did not foresee that _other_ traits of the gentler races would _also_ manifest. He tried very hard to weed out the weak, as he saw them, but only succeeded in increasing the damage, again, as he saw it. So he was forced to use his Voice to control them."

"It must have put quite a strain on him," Mandos commented. "There were so many of them at one time."

"Indeed, he was often on the brink," Lórien agreed. "His dreams were most disturbing at times."

"That is quite interesting, I'm sure," Vairë said, just a hint of snippiness in her voice. "My concern is for these two women, and what purpose there may be in... throwing them into the arms of Uruk-hai."

"Well, answer me this," the Dream Lord said mildly. "Have they violated the women?"

"No," she said slowly, uncertainly.

"How long have they been with the orcs?"

"Three days."

Lórien's brow arched. "All this time, at the mercy of, what, seven did you say? Seven orcs, arguably the most vicious ever bred, and they have not been defiled? Have they been harmed in any way?"

Vairë's lip curled with disgust. "One of them sought to lay claim to the woman he protects, and tore her throat open."

"What happened? What was the reaction to this act?"

The Weaver shifted uncomfortably, remembering. "His action was disdained by the others. He... groveled in shame. They beat him."

"The _Uruk-hai_ did this?" Vairë nodded. Lórien sipped thoughtfully from his own cup. "Then what happened?"

"Somehow, he returned to her side. I do not understand how."

"You watch diligently. How can you not know? Do you listen to their words?"

"Their voices are as the growling of mindless beasts to me," she replied through clenched teeth. "I do not listen."

"Perhaps you should."

She shot her husband an angry look.

"Do not be so quick to judge, my love," Mandos said quietly. "It is possible there _is_ no malicious hand in this."

"No, there is," she insisted. "I _felt_ it. We all know only the _maiar_ would be so foolish as to fetch people from other worlds for their entertainment. This has been done; that at least cannot be denied."

"Other worlds?" Lórien said curiously. "You did not mention this. Explain."

"They were from another place, I know not where," the Weaver said. "I have delved into their minds. Their world is... brutal. Harsh. Loud. There are... things I do not understand."

"Are there orcs?" Mandos asked quietly.

"No. What abuses the women have suffered, and they _have_ suffered, I assure you, were caused by Men."

"There is your answer, then," Lórien said. "If you seek the answer to your riddle, that is it."

"What do you mean?"

"They have not been raised to despise orcs," he replied patiently. "They have never been harmed by them. They do not have the instinctive revulsion or fear of orcs that the peoples of Arda have." He drained his cup. "If I were interested in rebuilding a ruined race, that is how I would begin."


	18. Long Fist of Fury

**Long Fist of Fury**

"I...do not understand," Razkaar said timidly, still cringing slightly when Sandy was near. Giving him a kind smile, she broke a bit of twig off a branch lying next to the campfire and used it as a stylus to draw in the dirt.

"It's not too hard," she said. "A car is like a box with wheels. See? It goes very fast."

"Goes?"

"Drives. Like...like a wagon. You know?"

"He ain't seen nothin' like that," Nûrzgrat grumbled. "Boy's only a few days old. He's seen trees, grass, and sky."

"And water," Razkaar whispered, eyes wide with remembered terror.

Sighing, Sandy fiddled with the stick. She could almost feel Morkoth's silent presence nearby, but couldn't look at him. Maybe this would turn out all right, being separated from him for a little while. She hadn't had a chance to get to know the rest of the group yet, particularly not the easily frightened Raz. Brianna and Ghrulagûrz were also at the fireside, now that supper was being shared. She wondered if telling Brie about Ghrulagûrz would be a good idea or make things worse.

In answer to Razkaar's words, Nûlkol grinned maliciously. Filling his cupped hand with water from a waterskin, he threw the contents at the small Uruk. Raz screamed like the water burned him, and desperately tried to brush it off.

Sandy was on edge anyway from learning such horrible things about her and Brianna's keepers. Nûlkol's cruelty sent her over.

Leaping to her feet, Sandy stomped over to the Uruk. Leering, he rose to meet her.

"You are a worthless pile of shit, Nûlkol," she growled. "I have had just about enough." When she reached him, she assumed an offensive stance, then launched her attack. Her fist hit the center of his chest, staggering him back a few paces. Nûlkol was too surprised to respond right away, and Sandy took advantage of it. Stepping forward, the other fist drove hard into his groin, then her follow-through brought her elbow smashing into his face, the impact increased by his instinctive doubling over from the punch to his privates. First one foot slammed into his gut, driving him further backwards, then the other hit him in the face again. She finished him with a spinning kick to the head that threw him sideways in a gasping heap on the ground.

Straightening, Sandy glared at him as he struggled to pick himself back up. "Yeah, just try it," she sneered. "I've got a whole bunch more whoop-ass with your name on it. I'm just getting warmed up."

The wiry Uruk leaped at her from an almost prone position, but she was just as fast. Flattening her profile sideways, she easily dodged his attack, letting his momentum carry him past her. Then she ran up behind him. Grabbing the back of his shirt, she halted him in his tracks and yanked him backwards. She dropped flat on the ground, then kicked his body up and over, again using his momentum to her advantage. He landed face down on the ground with a resounding _whump_. For giggles, Sandy pulled a Jackie Chan-style move to regain her feet, then executed a hands-free running round off to land heavily across Nûlkol's torso. His weak attempt to rise was quickly thwarted, his lungs emptying from the impact of a full-grown woman dropping on top of him. Grabbing one arm, she yanked it up between his shoulder blades until a bellow of pain erupted from the Uruk.

"Do _not_ fuck with me," she snarled. "Are we clear?" She jerked his arm higher, and he cried out once more. "Are we _clear_?"

Biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut, Nûlkol nodded quickly. Sandy released him and stood up. She kept him in sight as she returned to her seat by the fire.

Six pairs of wide-open eyes were upon her, six jagged-toothed mouths hanging open in shock.

"Now," Sandy said casually, "as I was saying, we were in a car. The car hit another one, and we were thrown..."

"What the _fuck_ was that?" Nûrzgrat roared.

"Something wrong?" she asked innocently.

"Where did you learn that?" Morkoth asked, awe in his voice. Sandy could only glance in his direction; she still didn't feel comfortable looking at him.

"You get beaten up enough, you start doing something about it," she said simply.

"She competes, too," Brianna added. She was the only one there who wasn't dumbstruck, though she had to admire her friend's skill. It was something she'd never learned, never felt she had the strength to use in her defense.

Slightly embarrassed, Sandy said, "I'm only a blue belt. It's not like I'm _really_ good at it." Glancing at Razkaar, she was surprised to see his face alight with admiration. Without a word, he threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly. Laughing, Sandy patted his back awkwardly.

"Ain't seen anything like that," Nûrzgrat said, amazed. He looked over toward Nûlkol, and smirked at the beaten Uruk's confused and humiliated expression as he gingerly rose. "I suppose you can take care of yourself, eh?"

"Yes," she said, then shot a pointed look at Morkoth. "I can."

"You know," Frûmâdûrz said thoughtfully, "I think that was the best ass-kicking I've ever seen him get. Can you teach me that?"

"Not a chance," Sandy said coolly. "Give up my best advantage? Huh uh."

"Hmph. Bet you'd teach your mate," he grumbled. Then he perked up. "Hey, didn't that position just open up?" Leering, he scooted over next to Sandy, who recoiled with disgust. "I thought you'd come around."

"Frûmâdûrz, darling," Sandy sighed, taking his hand. "I wouldn't... _open_... anything for you if the fate of the world depended on it." Grimacing, she gripped his smallest finger and bent it sharply back. He yelped and jerked away from her.

Spreading her arms out, Sandy said loudly, "Anyone else?"

* * *

><p>Morkoth walked the perimeter alone that night. Sandy had not only refused to accompany him, she'd gone to Nûrzgrat for warmth. The leader had reprimanded him soundly for that.<p>

"You fix things with her, boy," he'd snarled. "I don't care what you gotta do, you _do_ it."

Seeing her in Nûrzgrat's arms... he hadn't expected to feel such strong jealousy. Hadn't expected to feel his guts clench. Didn't know how to deal with the pain in his chest. He had known the wise leader all his life, trusted him, respected him, and now he wanted to kill him.

Watching her beat Nûlkol into the ground had aroused him a great deal, once he got over the initial shock. She'd used a similarly unfamiliar move to drop him before. More than ever, he admired her as much as he desired her. She was fierce and brave; he never would have expected her to walk boldly up to Nûlkol like that, much less pick a fight with him. It pained him, now, to think that she didn't need him nearly as much as he needed her.

He had to regain her trust, he _had_ to. Would she soften if he told her that he tried not to hurt those women when he took them? Would it matter that he whispered apologies to them, so his commanders who never seemed to look away would not hear?

No. Morkoth knew he had done wrong. Knew it then, knew it now. Men did not do such things.

Except... it was done to Brianna. Sandy had been beaten by a man, enough to turn her into a fighter for her own protection. And there are no orcs in their world. He realized he knew nothing about their world, and perhaps not enough about the race of Men he so admired. Were the men known to the women so different from the men he knew?

He'd put it out of his mind, but now it came back to him. The Dunlendings were, perhaps, more cruel than the Uruk-hai when raiding. Those were their own kind, yet they committed such atrocities Morkoth often had to look away. There was such hate between Dunland and Rohan, and he didn't understand why. They were _the same_.

Shaking his head in confusion, he realized he wouldn't get answers from his own head. Perhaps Sandy would have insight into such things. But thinking of her reminded him of her painful rejection, and he got angry. His steady walking had brought him round to her side of camp once more.

Resolved, Morkoth strode up to his leader and kicked Nûrzgrat lightly in the back.

"What the fuck?" the sleepy Uruk barked, looking up. "Whattayou want?"

"She is mine," Morkoth growled, pointing at Sandy. She was beginning to wake up, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

"You're welcome to her," Nûrzgrat snarled, releasing his hold and rolling away. "Bitch talks in her sleep." Settling himself with his back to the fire, he went back to sleep.

"Come," Morkoth snapped, grabbing Sandy's arm and yanking her to her feet.

"Whuh?" she said blearily. "What's wrong?"

"We must talk." Morkoth dragged her off into the darkness.

Sighing, Sandy stumbled along beside him, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. "I don't have anything to say to you, Morkoth," she said wearily.

"Then you will _listen_," he snarled.

Once he had her a fair distance from camp, the firelight a small flicker, he stopped and turned. Hesitantly, he let go of her arm, then sank to his knees. "I am sorry."

"I know you are," she replied softly. "I knew it when you told me."

"You have made me suffer."

"Yes. What you did... I can't even begin to tell you how much it scares me." Hugging herself, Sandy bowed her head. "I care about you. A lot. I guess I didn't want to believe anything... bad about you. Like somehow, even though you're an orc, you were different. You didn't do the things orcs are 'famous' for. I guess I wanted to believe that, while other orcs were out raping and killing, you were... pressing flowers or something."

Morkoth snorted a bitter laugh. "We did what served our Master's purposes. Pressing flowers would not have done that."

"I know." She drew a shuddering breath. "And I know, you can't make the past go away. You can't... undo what you did. It's part of you, and I have to accept it, if I'm going to accept you. It's just... hard."

"Sandy," he said quietly, "I know you do not need me. Could you..." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Could you ever _want_ me?"

She found herself looking anywhere but at him. Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she held it for several moments, then squeezed her eyes shut. "I could. I do. Oh god, I do." Sinking to her knees, she embraced him, holding him tightly. His arms quickly encircled her body and she felt warm, protected... Loved, perhaps? Could he feel such a thing? She had no idea, and at the moment, she didn't want to worry about it. She missed him too much.

Slowly withdrawing a little so she could look at his face, Sandy said, "Morkoth. I'm... I'm going to kiss you. But that's _all."_ He nodded vigorously, unable to speak. She tried not to look at his teeth, or remember what damage they could do, _had_ done. Eyes open to slits, she hesitantly approached.

It seemed minutes passed before her lips touched his, then all resistance drained away. Her body melted in his arms, and she could feel a similar reaction in him. His mouth softened and responded, his breathing quickened, his grip on her tightened. One hand slid down to clutch her behind. Shivering with an aching need, Sandy's lips parted, and she plundered his willing mouth with her tongue. What little mindfulness he still retained kept his teeth at bay as he matched her passion, sliding his own tongue along hers.

She felt more than heard the feral growl building in his chest. She felt him hardening against her. _No_, she thought, _I have to trust him. He knows. I told him. No further than this. Trust him._

As if in answer to her thoughts, he began to pull back slowly, reluctantly, not wanting the intimacy to end. Looking down at her, a small smile twitched his mouth. "You're doing it again."

"You're surprised?"

"No. I am... pleased."

* * *

><p>Nûrzgrat lay awake, unable to sleep. He'd had a woman in his arms and hadn't felt the urge to force himself on her. Oh, he wanted to fuck her, sure. Only a fool wouldn't. Was it fear of getting murdered by his second if he tried? Or the newly discovered threat of having his ass handed to him by the woman herself? No, not really. He just... didn't want to. He knew Sandy now, something he'd never experienced with a female. She was part of the group. If she consented to his attentions, he'd give her a proper fucking, certainly. But it was obvious even to him that she favored Morkoth.<p>

He shuddered to think what _Sharkû_ would do if he knew. Undoubtedly, he would consider Nûrzgrat flawed beyond what he'd already accepted of the Uruk, and mark him for slaughter. Such was the case with Frûmâdûrz. Indeed, Nûrzgrat had been on his way to carry out that order when the valley was attacked. It suddenly became more important to set aside the distasteful duty and preserve as much of his race as possible, including one whose insubordination and rebellion had attracted their Master's unfavorable attention.

No doubt, if _Sharkû_ knew what stock he _had_ preserved, he would laugh until he died.

Sighing, Nûrzgrat's thoughts returned to the women, and he had to face it. He envied his second, he envied Ghrulagûrz. It was more than a nighttime companion he wanted, too, and that idea frankly scared him more than facing an army of whiteskins. And he armed only with a pointed stick.

* * *

><p>Lying in a seething pool of fury, Nûlkol glared hotly at the flame-haired female as she departed with Morkoth. She did not fight to kill, but to humiliate, and she had bested him. <em>Sooth her<em>, his thoughts snarled, _embrace her while you can. She will be answered._

His eyes found Ghrulagûrz, wakeful as usual, and a leer crossed his face. _And you. Especially you._


	19. Boyfriends Coming Out of the Woodwork

**The Boyfriends Are Coming Out of the Woodwork!**

_March 1, 3019 – Aragorn and his Army of the Dead march forth; Gandalf and Pippin arrive in Minas Tirith; During the night, the Storm of Mordor stretches across the sky toward the West_

Nûrzgrat chafed as they broke camp. The arrival of the females not only disrupted things beyond tolerance at times, it slowed their progress to a crawl. On their own, the Uruk-hai could have run the whole way out of Rohan, barely needing rest. Now they stayed a day or two in one spot, and _walked_ to the next night's camp.

Once they headed out, however, he began to calm again, and set his sights westward. They _must_ be almost to the border of Rohan by now, surely.

"I have to ask," Sandy said next to him. "Where the hell are we going?"

"West," he grunted.

"No shit, Buckwheat," she grumbled. "Even _I_ figured that much out. Do you have a destination in mind, or are we just running like hell until we run out of space to run?"

Nûrzgrat laughed a little. "More true than you know. We're getting out of Rohan. After that..." He shrugged. "If you know someplace we'll be welcomed, I'm all ears."

"Yeah, coming up blank here, sorry," she replied.

"What is your world like?" Morkoth suddenly asked. At his words, several others closed in, anxious to also hear. "You never finished your tale of how you came here, either."

"Sorry about that. Okay," she said, glancing at Brianna who walked beside her. Since things started smoothing over with Ghrulagûrz, he was less anxious, and actually didn't seem overly nervous about having Nûlkol stalking malevolently behind him. She shuddered at the expression on the latter Uruk's face. He seemed to consider her attack far more offensive than anyone else's.

"Well, as I said, we were in this car, and it hit another one head on," she said, banging her hands together to represent the crash. "I went through the windshield, apparently," she said, gingerly touching her head. "I'm guessing Brie here got thrown out the door or something. I don't really know. Anyway, that... window thing Morkoth saw must have opened on our side right in front of the car, and you know, two points each for whoever made it, because we both went right through."

"You were... inside the box on wheels?" Thakûf asked uncertainly.

"Yeah. A friend of ours was driving...," she said, then faltered. "God, I hope he's okay."

"I haven't even thought about that," Brianna breathed, shock on her face.

"Was he not protected? Inside?" Morkoth asked.

"That depends," Sandy replied. "The other car hit us hard enough to knock me and Brie right out of... the box. We were going pretty fast, you know."

"How fast?" Nûrzgrat asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know, fifty, sixty miles an hour," she said with a shrug.

"This... car... travels sixty miles... in an hour," Nûrzgrat repeated in disbelief.

"Well, if you're not in much of a hurry, yeah," Sandy said. "If you _are_ in a hurry, I think you could get it up to a hundred."

The Uruk-hai stopped as one, and stared at the women. Even Nûlkol forgot how pissed he was at Sandy as he gawked at her.

"Heh," Sandy said nervously, flicking her eyes across their stunned faces. "I guess I shouldn't mention planes, huh?"

"Is this common? Do all of your people travel in this way?" Nûrzgrat asked.

"Yeah, it's pretty common. Just about everyone has at least one car, unless they live in a city with a decent bus system." The group slowly began walking again. "We weren't even in our own city, to be honest."

"That's right, we were on our way to that wedding," Brianna chimed in, remembering. Then she grimaced. "Wow, her parents named _her_ well."

Sandy giggled. "Oh, you know it. If _only_ she was marrying a guy named Reggie. Or Archie, even. God. I forgot about that. Veronica Mason. I want to believe she was a nicer person when you knew her, and the wedding stress just turned her into a bitch from hell."

"No, she was unbearable when I knew her, too," Brie said sheepishly. "We didn't have a gig, it was a big wedding, lots of people expected at the reception... I saw dollar signs, not the needle burying on my bitch-o-meter."

"What are you talking about?" Nûrzgrat interrupted.

"Oh," Sandy said with surprise, as if just realizing they were walking in the middle of a pack of orcs. "Sorry. Brie and I are musicians. We're in a band. When we were in the accident, we were on our way to a wedding to play music for the reception."

"Musicians," Frûmâdûrz said in disbelief. "You play music."

"Yeah," Sandy said, then pulled her harmonica out of her pocket with a smile. It wasn't easy to play it while walking, but she managed, and blew a marching tune on the instrument as they went.

Razkaar seemed to like Sandy even more than when she punished Nûlkol for being cruel to him, and nearly danced at her side in time with the music.

Ghrulagûrz looked questioningly at Brianna. "You play as well?"

"Not the harmonica. I play guitar," she said. "And sing. Though obviously, there's no chance of playing now, even if I _did_ have a guitar." She rubbed her broken arm ruefully.

"What is a guitar?" her keeper asked. Brianna explained the shape and features of a guitar, but wasn't sure he knew what she was talking about until he frowned and said, "You mean a lute?"

"Yes, I suppose that's pretty similar," she replied with a smile.

"So you are like bards," Morkoth said knowingly.

"Sort of, yeah," Sandy nodded. "It's not _all_ we did, though. Playing bars and weddings doesn't pay all _that_ well. Brie was in the doctorate program, too, so if she didn't have Arthur footing some of the bills..."

"Sssshhh!" Brie hissed sharply, jerking her head toward Ghrulagûrz.

Sandy rolled her eyes impatiently. "Oh right, we were both completely unattached before coming here."

"_You_ were, now shut the hell up," her friend snapped.

"Only mostly," Sandy said with a shrug. "I had Pat's walking papers signed in triplicate, ready to hand over, when we took that gig. He was on his way out."

Frûmâdûrz snorted and shook his head. "What did I tell ya?" He mimed two chattering geese with his hands.

"Shut up," Morkoth advised. "Who are Arthur and Pat?"

Ignoring Brianna's attempts to stop her, Sandy said, "Arthur is Brie's boyfriend, and Pat was mine."

Ghrulagûrz froze in his tracks and stared at Brianna. She winced.

"What the hell is a 'boyfriend'?" Nûrzgrat asked.

"Practice mate," Ghrulagûrz snarled. The rest of the group stopped.

"Well, well, well," Nûlkol said slowly. "Your bit of cunt has already been plowed, hasn't it?" He tsked as he approached. "And yours as well, it seems. How... amusing."

"Thanks a whole hell of a lot, Sandy," Brie muttered, ignoring the foul Uruk.

"You did not say you had a mate," Ghrulagûrz said quietly.

"Come over here, Ghru. Let's talk." Taking him by the arm, Brie urged him to walk apart from the others. The group resumed their trek.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything about it," Brie said quietly. "But you have to admit, the last few days have been pretty out of control."

"You belong to another," he snarled.

"No, I don't," she replied firmly. He growled sullenly in response. "Listen to me. It doesn't work like that. I'm not... married to the guy. We were just dating." Giving it some thought, she conceded, "Okay, more than dating."

"Fucking?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, but yes." They walked on in silence for a couple of minutes, then Brianna finally asked, "Did you think I was a virgin?"

"No," he said, his voice so low she almost couldn't hear it. "I knew you were not. Sandy said..." He shot her a quick look.

"Sandy said what?"

Swallowing uncomfortably, he grimaced. "She said you were... you were raped."

It took her a few moments to respond. "I'm sure she had a good reason for telling you that," Brianna said stiffly.

"She... wanted me to understand..." He was having a very hard time telling her, and an even harder time keeping it from her.

"Understand what?"

"What I've done," he replied in a whisper.

She almost stopped walking. Faltering for a moment, she somehow kept her feet moving. "You haven't done that. Tell me you haven't."

"It would be a lie. I will not lie to you."

Wincing, Brianna bowed her head. "How _can_ you have done that?" Her tone said what she did not, that he was suffering the same abuse and should have known better.

"It did not seem to be the same," he said. "I was told to do it, so I did it. Until I couldn't anymore."

Frowning, she glanced at him. "You couldn't?"

"It... stopped working," he said, humiliated.

"I know," she said. "Nûrzgrat told me about your name."

He drew a shuddering breath and let it out slowly. "He named me that. It... helped. I was no longer told to... At least... there it helped."

She nodded agreement. "It's not all that uncommon. You shouldn't let it worry you."

Ghrulagûrz didn't seem ready to let it go, however. "Some... thought it a challenge. While they were... using me, they would try to make it... work." He looked ready to vomit again, and Brianna watched his face with alarm. "I got hard. Only when they were... Until Sandy did that... whatever she did, I could not get hard without..."

His face contorted with despair, hopelessness, self-hatred, humiliation... Brianna lost track of all the raw emotions she saw. Reaching out, she took hold of his hand. Startled, he looked at her.

"Don't you worry about that," she said firmly, squeezing his hand. "It doesn't mean anything. It's just doing what it normally does, and it had nothing to do with what you wanted. In fact, it's been my understanding that the last thing it cares about is what you think." She offered him a wan smile. "I don't think there's anything wrong with you."

He wasn't sure how to respond, and just pondered her words in silence.

* * *

><p>When Brie and Ghru slipped to the back of the group, Sandy was faced with a more than slightly put out Morkoth. They were obliged to separate a bit from the pack as well, lest their own private conversation be overheard.<p>

"You did not tell me you were mated," he growled.

"I'm not, that's why," she said with annoyance. "Look, I'm not a virgin, but I'm not a slut, either. I was dating Pat and things weren't working out. Does that make you feel better?"

"I suppose," he allowed. "You are mine now. This Pat does not matter."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second," Sandy said, her temper rising. "I'm 'yours'? Where do you get _that_ idea?"

Shrugging, he said, "You have consented to be my mate, have you not?"

"Is that... like... being married?"

"I believe so. It is a joining. I believe men would call it marriage."

"Then I definitely did _not_ give my consent. What kind of horse shit _is_ this?" she cried angrily.

"No horse shit. I thought... you kissed me. Does that not mean...?"

"No, it most certainly does not!" Forcing herself to calm down, Sandy said evenly, "Even if I had sex with you, that wouldn't necessarily mean I was ready to sign my life away to you and only you forever and ever amen. I'll go so far as to offer you the position of 'boyfriend', but that's as far as I'm willing to go right now."

"It is because I am Uruk-hai," he snarled. "You do not trust me. You fear me. You are disgusted by me."

"Don't give me that crap, Morkoth," she snapped. "You just sprang something huge on me. Where I come from, that's a lifelong commitment. I'm not sure enough about whatever the hell is going on between us to make a commitment like that. Understand?"

His brow furrowed sullenly. "I am sure."

"Well, I'd be suspicious of that, if I were you," she retorted. "That was awful damn quick. You don't know _anything_ about me. You didn't even know I had a boyfriend. Do you know how many I've _had_?"

He glanced sharply at her.

"Counting high school, I've had six. Four of them were serious enough for sex," she told him. "At least two were damn _good_ sex. Here's another thing. I'm a total bitch when I've got PMS, so hang on to your shorts when _that_ week rolls around. And did I mention..."

Morkoth grabbed her arm and pivoted her around, then shut her up with a kiss. She resisted only for a moment, then found that she had forgotten what she was going to say. Regardless, when he released her, she glared at him.

"You can _not_ end arguments that way!" she snapped.

"Must I do it again?" he challenged.

A smile quirked her mouth slightly, and she shook her head with amusement. "Maybe tonight."


	20. The Coming of Night

**The Coming of Night**

"Time for some girl talk," Sandy stated firmly as the Uruk-hai set up camp for the night. Nûrzgrat shot her a look.

"You take those boys with you," he snapped.

"Huh-uh," she said, shaking her head. "Girl talk means 'no boys allowed,' and I really don't think they'd be interested anyway. Even if they were, it's none of their damn business. So that means _you_ have to keep the piece of shit from following us, got it?"

Rolling his eyes, Nûrzgrat grumbled some foul-sounding words under his breath that Sandy was pretty sure she didn't want to know the meaning of.

Satisfied, Sandy led Brie off to a spot within sight of camp. "Look, this is killing me. I have to tell you something about Ghru."

"I think he's already told me," Brianna replied quietly. "He's... raped women. He's been raped." She shuddered and hugged herself, unable to look her friend in the eye. "Oh god. I think it's just now sinking in." She clumsily sat on the ground.

Sandy joined her. Sitting across from Brie, she reached out and took the woman's hands, holding them firmly. "Morkoth told me what's been happening to him in Isengard for, god, most of his life. Ghru pretty much told me himself about the... other. I didn't want to deal with it either. Then he dropped the bomb on what _he's_ done."

"Morkoth?" Brie asked incredulously.

Nodding, Sandy said, "Apparently, they were told to. But dammit, you know how it goes, right? Men in wartime do god-awful things, usually to women. Same with orcs, only at an exponential level."

"What... sick bastard... dropped us here?" Brie asked shakily, her teeth clenched.

"I don't know," Sandy sighed wearily. "They're probably laughing their asses off, whoever it is."

"What are we going to do?"

"Suck it up and deal, I guess," Sandy replied. "I don't think there's any going home. If there _were_ a chance for it, I guarantee _this_ bunch wouldn't begin to know how to go about it."

"We're... stuck here? Forever?" Brianna asked. She looked like she was going to burst into tears at any moment.

"I think so. But look on the bright side," Sandy ventured. "Those two _could_ have done what they usually do, but neither of them have. Morkoth said he didn't even like doing it, and he's so wrapped up in this weird 'what would a man do' obsession, I don't think he ever will. As for Ghru... god, he's messed up, but I think... well, he seemed less on edge today, didn't he? Maybe talking about it is helping him."

"Yeah, I think it is," Brie said, and sighed. "He's told me... some pretty embarrassing things. His default response seems to be to vomit his guts up, too. God, I feel so _sorry_ for him."

"Well, don't let it cloud your thinking," Sandy warned. "He's still an orc, even if he can't get it up."

"Actually, he _can_," Brie said uneasily. "When you launched your pheromone attack."

"Oh, crap," Sandy breathed. Her mind went to all kinds of bad places, thinking of her friend out in the darkness alone with a suddenly capable Ghru.

"Nothing... happened. Not to me, anyway." Blushing, Brie whispered, "He pulled a Thakûf."

"In _front_ of you?" Sandy grimaced.

Brianna nodded uncomfortably. "It didn't last more than half a minute. I had to make him stop, and he freaked out and ran."

"I hate to say it, but thank god he didn't make a move on _you_."

"I thought the exact same thing," Brie nodded.

"So... what now? We're stuck, we've been 'claimed' by a couple of somewhat-less-than-wholesome boys, no big brothers, dads or cousins to kick their shit for us..." She shook her head. "Call me crazy, but I still have the major hots for Morkoth, and I hate that I just... brush off what he's done."

"You think it's okay, then?" her friend said stiffly.

"No, of course I don't, and it makes me want to barf every time I think about it," Sandy clarified. "I just... I believe him. I trust him. He said he didn't like it, he took a lot of beatings when he refused... What about you? Now that you know more about Ghru?"

Brianna didn't answer for several moments. "I'm... attracted to him. I can't seem to help wanting to... make him whole again."

"Well, _that_ shouldn't surprise you," Sandy said, arching her eyebrows.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"God, the guy's a train wreck!" Sandy said. "Admit it, you've got this... thing... about really messed up people. It gets your sympathy gland pumping on overtime."

"I beg your pardon!" Brie cried indignantly.

"Get over it," Sandy said wearily. "You may think that you and Arthur were a match made in heaven, but even _I_ know he was boring the hell out of you. The only issue he had was... I don't know, 'short man syndrome' or something. I shudder to think what will happen when you 'cure' Ghru of all his problems and he's a nice, stable, smiling orc."

"Bitch," Brianna muttered. "You make me sound... like I feed off misery or something."

"No, _orcs_ feed off misery and cause as much as they can," Sandy pointed out. "_You_ actually want to fix it. Tell me something... what do you think of Ghru, apart from his delicious smorgasbord of personal trauma?"

Again, Brie was unsure of her answer, and pondered for a moment. "It's... pretty weird, but... he's attractive to me. Physically. Not when I first saw him. God, I thought he was the most hideous monster... But now..." She shrugged, her cheeks coloring in spite of her attempt at indifference. "I keep thinking about... when we were in the pool... before he bit me..." She shivered, and both women knew it wasn't a repulsed shiver. "That night you did the test, I looked at him and... thought about kissing him..." Brie immediately covered her mouth and stared at Sandy with alarm.

"You hit him with a pheromone punch too, didn't you?" Brie nodded wordlessly. Sandy patted her knee. "Yeah, I nail Morkoth with them all the time. He's certainly got amazing self-control. Look, things could be way worse. There aren't any cops here, probably not even any normal citizens either, since there's a war going on. They're probably all on the front lines. If these guys wanted to hurt us, there'd be no way in hell we'd be able to stop them. We're damn lucky they're keeping that heap of shit off our asses, instead of following his lead. I can take _him_, just not all the rest of them as well."

Nodding, Brie said quietly, "I just keep thinking... Nûrzgrat wants us to sleep with them. He doesn't seem to understand it takes time to get to that point."

"You're surprised?" Sandy laughed. "The guy's mental. From his perspective, there's nothing to it. If I were as ignorant of relationships as he obviously is, I'd be pretty baffled too."

"He wants us to have their _babies_," Brie hissed. "Not just... have sex with them."

"I know, I know," Sandy said dismissively. "Like I said: mental. They're all a bunch of nincompoops. Morkoth actually thought kissing him meant we were married." She shook her head and laughed.

"You... kissed him?" Brie stared at her, incredulous. "You didn't mention that!"

"Oh, yeah," Sandy said awkwardly. "Guess I forgot. Um...hey, Brie, I kissed Morkoth!" She offered a wan smile.

"Very funny," Brie grumbled. "Well, obviously, it didn't kill you. What was it like? All I can think of is teeth..." She shuddered.

"Um... I didn't really notice the teeth, until... well... I ran across them with my tongue," she finished quietly, peeking at her friend's look of shock. "It was actually...really..._really_ nice. Except for the teeth."

"And he didn't... try for something more?" Brie asked uncertainly.

"No," Sandy replied. "I told him that was all he was getting. He didn't push for more. Not even a feel." Then she blushed hotly. "Okay, he grabbed my butt, but that's all."

Brianna hugged herself again. "I can't. With Ghru. I want to, but... I guess I don't trust him yet."

"This isn't a race, Brie," Sandy said firmly. "Ignore that dirty old man, Nûrzgrat, and go at your own pace. Make sure Ghru understands, too. If there's anything else he needs to do to earn your trust, tell him. I promise he won't come up with it on his own. Think of him as really, _really_ male. Like, clueless in the extreme kind of male."

Brie laughed a little, and nodded.

* * *

><p>Sandy almost regretted pulling out her harmonica earlier. Now, she couldn't seem to get rid of Razkaar. He sat in front of her, raptly listening to the random tunes she played. Even Thakûf had started showing more than casual interest in her. Unfortunately, since he also didn't have any sense of boundaries, more often than not, his interest degenerated into fondling. At least he kept it to himself, Sandy thought with some embarrassment, although having to watch him...<p>

At least Nûlkol had finally returned his hateful glaring to Ghrulagûrz, sparing her the discomfort.

Nûrzgrat finally put his foot down and demanded that everyone get to bed.

"Fine, _dad_," she grumbled, pocketing the instrument and joining Morkoth beside the fire.

"None of your lip," he shot back. "I'm taking watch. I better not have to come running back here to kick anyone's head in." The Uruk glared warningly at each one of them, then stomped off.

"Good," Frûmâdûrz said with relief. "Nobody's around here anyway. Everyone's off having a good time, fighting in the war, while we run like cowards in the other direction. If I'm gonna be forced to run, I'd rather sleep through it as much as I can."

"You can take your ass back east, if it'll make you feel better," Morkoth growled. "You knew what we were doing when you came with us."

"What choice did I have?" Frûmâdûrz snarled sarcastically. "It was either follow you or die. I wasn't really in the mood to die that day. Forgive me."

Morkoth just waved dismissively, not interested in fighting with the other Uruk, or being in a foul mood when he embraced his woman. She may have denied such a relationship, but he couldn't imagine anything else; she was either the mate of another, or his mate. Any finer distinctions than that were lost on him.

Sandy lay down in his arms, her back comfortably pressed to his chest. He felt very nice, very warm, after a long day of walking in the chill late winter air. Sort of like that steaming mug of cocoa after shoveling the driveway. Snuggling against him, she smiled as he nuzzled her neck.

"You feel good," Morkoth murmured, his voice rumbling in his chest. "I have missed this."

"You missed one night," she admonished lightly. "Don't be a baby."

He stiffened, then relaxed. His clawed hand went to her belly. "I want to... plant my seed in you."

Now Sandy tensed up. "Not tonight, you're not," she snapped. "And just an FYI, that's not exactly a romantic way of putting it."

"What should I say?" he asked impatiently. "I desire you. I want you to give me sons. I cannot think of anything but you."

"Morkoth," she asked seriously, "do you know anything at all about love?"

"It is... a man's way, is it not?"

"You could say that," she allowed, "but I don't think humans hold the monopoly on it. Put it this way, I'll have to love _you_ before I have your... babies."

"Love me," he said slowly, testing the words. "I am confused."

"What's confusing?"

"Master bred us from women like you," he said uncertainly. "I do not think they loved the orcs who mated with them. Yet they had babies..."

"Okay, biologically, emotions have nothing to do with it," she said, fighting to keep exasperation out of her voice. "Loving someone isn't really _required_ for that. It'll happen regardless. I just... well, you kind of led me to believe you didn't want to force me..."

"I do not."

"Well, then, for _me_ to go through with the discomfort and pain, I'm afraid it _is_ required."

"What must I do to make you love me?"

"It doesn't work like that, Morkoth. I either do, or I don't. You just... be yourself. Do what you do."

"If I did what Uruk-hai do, you would hate me," he replied ruefully.

"I don't mean that," she said quietly. "You get points for not liking what you used to do. You've shown me... a rather nice side of orcs I didn't even believe existed. More points in your favor. Just... keep it up, okay? It's working for you, trust me." She patted his hand.

"Then I will continue," he said softly, kissing her neck.

"Oh, lordy," Sandy breathed, melting against him.

* * *

><p>Nûrzgrat could feel something in the air, something different. Something <em>wrong<em>. It was half the reason he sent everyone to bed and took watch himself, even though it was supposed to be Frû's turn. His agitation increased as he circled the camp, to the point where he found himself constantly darting his eyes eastward.

It took him over three hours of rising nervousness to see it.

Hastening to Brianna and Ghrulagûrz, the latter of whom was still awake, he hissed, "Woman! Wake up!"

Brianna jerked awake and looked around in surprise. "What is it?"

"Come." He grabbed her arm and urged her to rise. Ghrulagûrz seemed to sense that this wasn't a threat to Brie and allowed his leader to handle her. The three of them hastened into the darkness beyond the firelight.

"Look!" Nûrzgrat cried, pointing to the eastern horizon.

Brianna exchanged an uncertain look with Ghrulagûrz and said, "What am I looking at?"

"The sky, look at the sky!" He'd never been so completely unsettled, so close to panic.

The woman dutifully did as he asked, then her brow furrowed. "Where are the stars?"


	21. No Dawn for the Wicked

**No Dawn for the Wicked**

_March 2, 3019 – The Dawnless Day; the Rohirrim ride forth from the weapontake at Dunharrow; Faramir is rescued from a Nazgûl by Gandalf; Frodo, Sam, and Gollum witness the departure of the army from Minas Morgul_

Nûrzgrat paced nervously, frequently glancing eastward at the darkening sky. The blackness was advancing faster than the sun could rise, blanketing all the land in a shroud. He could hear the whispers in the back of his mind, something he hadn't heard since Saruman's power was stripped, leaving his servants bereft of a guiding hand for the first time.

_Come to me. Fight for me. Make them bleed. Glory in their suffering. Feast on the flesh of Men._

"He calls us, do you not hear?" Nûlkol growled.

Frûmâdûrz nodded. "We should go. We should turn around and go." Glaring at the leader with disgust, he snarled, "You can do what you like, old one. I will heed the call."

"Be my fucking guest," Nûrzgrat grimaced. "Go. Die. Take the blood of the Uruk-hai with you, and good riddance."

"What good is our blood if it is wasted?" Nûlkol hissed. He turned a malevolent eye on the women, sitting huddled together by the campfire, watching the agitated orcs fearfully. "Your pets do not share their good fortune."

"Blood such as yours is best spilled on the ground," Morkoth growled, rising to tower threateningly over the wiry Uruk. "It would be a waste to see it passed on to younglings."

"You think your blood is superior?" Frûmâdûrz snapped. "You who talk of Men's ways as though they were our betters? Where did you learn such things? Do you even know what it is to be Uruk-hai, _kruf shara-obu_?" [whore of Men]

Morkoth spun and punched Frûmâdûrz in the mouth. Enraged, the two Uruk-hai fought viciously. Nûlkol stepped aside while the two were at one another's throats. Smirking, he loped off into the gloomy mid-morning shadows.

Nûrzgrat struggled to separate Morkoth and Frû. "That is enough! Morkoth, get the fuck off him!" The larger Uruk reluctantly climbed off Frû. He still felt Frû's ridicule should be answered, but bowed to his leader's authority.

"If you had more orc blood, you would have fucked that woman on the first day," Frûmâdûrz snarled through swollen lips. "If you were more of an orc, you would have let us have a go at her when you were done. If you were _any_ kind of orc..."

"...I would kill you with my bare hands for insulting me!" Morkoth roared, throwing himself at the taunting Uruk once more. Impatience overshadowing Nûrzgrat's agitation, he again waded into the struggle and attempted to stop it.

"What's _wrong_ with them?" Brianna hissed. Sandy just shook her head, bewildered. They'd all been awake ever since Nûrzgrat got Brianna up to look at the starless sky, only to find that the sun couldn't break through the dense black clouds upon rising. As the shadow continued to stretch westward, more sky was swallowed up, and the sun remained hidden. It felt like noon was not far off, yet it looked like twilight.

The darkening sky seemed to have thrown the Uruk-hai into unexpected turmoil.

Razkaar had been huddled in the lee of a large stone outcropping for the better part of the morning, hugging his knees and rocking while he muttered to himself in confusion. Thakûf was unable to settle in one spot, frequently getting up and moving to another part of the campsite. He kept wiping his hands on his shirt as if he couldn't get the filth off them, even though they appeared relatively clean.

Sitting hunched next to Brianna, Ghrulagûrz trembled. He could hear the Dark Lord's Voice, not as clearly as he had once heard the Voice of his Master, but enough to disturb him. Urges he hadn't felt in many years were awakening, and they frightened him. He had long been trapped in Isengard, and had not seen battle for a very long time, but now he wanted desperately to feel a sword in his hand once again. He wanted to smell fear and taste man-flesh.

He fought it, but his gaze turned to Brianna. His woman. So near. Sweet, warm blood, the memory still fresh. His heart began to pound, his body to shake, hands to clench. It was not battle he craved now.

"Ghru?" she said hesitantly, her voice sounding miles away though she was only inches from him. It seemed to happen in slow motion. Ghrulagûrz's eyes widened, his mouth contorting in a snarl. His clawed hands took hold of her upper arms, pulling her closer. Once again, his mouth closed on her throat, her resistance and protestation a minor disturbance in his fevered mind.

Until he felt a sudden pain in the side of his head, and found himself knocked sideways onto the ground.

Sandy stood over him, ready to launch another attack. Ghrulagûrz shook himself, and all at once, sanity returned, as well as knowledge of what he had just done. He saw Brianna's hysterical weeping, saw the blood running down her neck. This time, his shame and self-loathing was too great to bear. Lurching to his feet, the Uruk staggered away from camp, determined to go as far as he could this time, so far none would find him, and he could do no further harm to Brianna.

There were many times Ghrulagûrz despised what he was, and the urges that often came to him. It was no comfort that his thoughts were often of Brianna, rather than fond remembrances of the use he was put to as _globatish_. No, he never recalled those times with anything but nausea. He was only beginning to realize that none but Nûlkol meant him harm. The others... they had never abused him before, and seemed uninterested in doing so now.

Ghrulagûrz slowed to a halt. He wanted nothing more than to embrace Brianna the way Morkoth did Sandy. Tenderly, gently. She would look upon him with eyes of fire, as Sandy looked on Morkoth. A sob tore from his throat, and he covered his face with his clawed, bestial hands, and wished he could be rid of all signs, inward and outward, that he was an orc.

He was so consumed by his misery, he didn't hear the stealthy approach of Nûlkol, and wasn't prepared for the blow to the head that sent him sprawling. Stunned, he couldn't resist when the wiry Uruk bound his arms behind his back with a torn cloth.

"Remember the games we used to play?" Nûlkol whispered, shoving a wadded-up rag into the larger Uruk's mouth. "Let me refresh your memory."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe he did that to her <em>again<em>!" Sandy stormed, directing an accusing glare at Morkoth. "And _you_ idiots just _let it happen_. What the hell is _wrong_ with you?"

Brianna was hysterical, sobbing and shaking.

"I do not know!" Morkoth roared, pressing his hands against his temples and wincing. It looked like he was trying to squeeze out whatever was driving him mad.

Nûrzgrat shook his head like a dog troubled by a high-pitched sound. "It is the Dark Lord," he growled. "He must be... moving. Attacking. He calls all of Morgoth's children to him. I did not think... We are _Sharkû's_, for fuck's sake! Why do we hear _him_?"

Turning a baleful glare on Frûmâdûrz, the leader snarled, "What would you do if you _did_ find his army, eh? Turn _his_ orcs against him, like you tried in Isengard? Just to see if you _could_? Stupid fucker."

Frûmâdûrz bristled. "I want to fight. I am not such a woman that I will hide when called."

"I beg your god damned pardon!" Sandy snapped.

"Stop, please!" Brianna cried, hugging herself and rocking in her distress. "Just shut up!"

Nûrzgrat sighed. "We should keep going west. That is where we will be safest." He looked significantly at Morkoth and jerked his chin toward the women.

"We are _called_," Frûmâdûrz insisted. "If we ignore him, and he _wins_..."

"He won't," Sandy interrupted. "He doesn't win."

The three Uruk-hai looked at her. "How do you know?" Nûrzgrat asked suspiciously.

Sandy sighed deeply. "Where Brie and I come from, this is... history. Already happened. I've... read the outcome of this war. Sauron is defeated."

Nûrzgrat winced slightly at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, then said, "You did not tell us this before. Why?"

"What would you have done with the information?" she countered. "If you were trying to run _toward_ the war, I might have warned you against wasting your time, but you're trying to get away from it." Glaring at Frûmâdûrz, she said, "Now that some of you have suddenly decided to bury your heads in your asses, it seemed a good time to mention it."

Shaking his head and laughing humorlessly, Nûrzgrat replied, "That we have done. I wish I could say we cannot help ourselves, but that is an insult."

"I do not want to go back to what we were, the things we used to do," Morkoth said firmly. "Call me anything you like, Frûmâdûrz, but following the ways of Men is the _only_ way we will survive now. If you disagree, go chase after the orcs of Mordor and share their fate."

"I seem to remember you stirring up Sharkû's orcs," Nûrzgrat sneered, "causing no end of trouble in the pits. Do you miss being a pain in the ass? Did you know your deeds did not go unnoticed? Did you know the flood saved your neck from an order of death given by Sharkû himself?" Spitting on the ground at the stunned Uruk's feet, Nûrzgrat went on, "I thought you might have potential. You might have some good qualities we could use. Ain't so sure now."

"He... wanted me dead?" Frûmâdûrz whispered incredulously.

"He did not like your games, Frû," Morkoth said flatly. "I do not like them either."

"It doesn't matter now," Nûrzgrat grumbled. "We gotta keep moving. Where the hell is Ghrulagûrz?"

"Lying in a puddle of piss and sick," Nûlkol said calmly from beside the campfire. He was casually poking at the logs with a stick, at his ease. "He was always a weak _globatish_."

"What the fuck did you do?" Nûrzgrat hissed angrily, bristling. Morkoth and Frûmâdûrz likewise stiffened with revulsion.

"He weeps like a woman," Nûlkol continued in that same conversational tone, as if he were discussing the weather. "Always has." Heaving a great sigh, he went on, "It is fortunate he also _feels_ like one." Then he leered at Brianna.

"You didn't," she whispered, horror building. Even after what Ghru had just done to her, after promising not to... And nobody seemed inclined to punish Nûlkol for his deed. What if he did it again? Or did it to her? Would no one stop him? _There aren't any cops here._ Sandy's words came back to her, and she began to shake with rage.

"You sick fuck!" Nûrzgrat roared. "We left _all_ that shit behind us!"

"_Now_ will you fucking kill that son of a bitch?" Sandy barked. Nûrzgrat quivered, but made no move to do so. Nûlkol erupted in his hyena-like laughter and rose to his feet.

"He will not kill me, woman," he sneered. "He wants to save us all. _All_ of us. That means when you are finished whelping for Morkoth, you will be mine. Or she will be. I do not care which one of you serves me. In the meantime, I require the occasional... compensation... for waiting."

His laughter was abruptly stopped by a knife protruding from his abdomen. Looking down, Nûlkol stared at the weapon. Somewhere in his mind, he recognized it as belonging to Ghrulagûrz. He looked up and saw Brianna across from him, the second knife poised and ready to launch. His face contorted with fury.

"Ghrulagûrz belongs to _me_!" she cried, her voice shaking, almost incoherent. "That was for me. This is for _him_." She threw. Her Uruk's lessons had, perhaps, not been rigorous, but fueled by hate, anger, and the desperate need for _some_ justice to prevail, her aim was true. The second knife pierced Nûlkol through the throat.

It was an ugly, prolonged death that intensified the horror when Brianna came to her senses. Nûlkol lay sprawled on the ground, choking, gasping, convulsing, bleeding a sea of black tar-like blood out his neck with each desperate breath as he clung to life. His hands shook too much to remove the blades.

Tearing her eyes away, Brianna looked around her. The other Uruk-hai were stunned, their gazes flicking between their mortally wounded brother and the intruding human enemy who struck him down. She didn't wait for them to turn on her in a vengeful rage. Brianna spun around and fled the camp.


	22. A Funny Thing Happened

**A Funny Thing Happened on My Way to the War**

"What... what are you going to do?" Sandy asked shakily, unable to take her eyes off the twitching body.

Nûrzgrat walked up to Nûlkol and looked down into the suffering Uruk's eyes. "You bought and paid for this, you piece of shit," he muttered. Grimacing, he pulled the knives free and cleaned them off on Nûlkol's clothing. Ghrulagûrz would want them back, no doubt. When he glanced back at the Uruk's face, Nûlkol's eyes were fixed, unseeing, on the darkened sky.

Turning to Sandy, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I owe Ghrulagûrz for this. I should have killed him a week ago. It was my duty. I just..."

"It's okay," Sandy said, gripping his shoulder. "You wanted to save an entire race. You thought you had to save as many as you could. I understand."

"I just hope Ghrulagûrz will," he growled. "No sense going after him now. Whenever he's been... it just ain't a good idea."

"I need to go get Brie," she said firmly. "That was not something she would ever have done. She must be completely freaked out." Patting his shoulder, Sandy took off at a run after her friend.

"Frû," Nûrzgrat said after a quick scan of the camp, "if you think you can spare a moment from your plans to bend over for the Dark Lord, go find Raz. He's gone to ground again."

Without a word of protest, Frûmâdûrz quickly surveyed the perimeter until he located the smallest Uruk's tracks and scent, then loped off in that direction.

Turning, Nûrzgrat realized Morkoth was still staring at Nûlkol's body. He hadn't moved a muscle.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Nûrzgrat roared. "Go after your woman! Make sure they both make it back here, then we're heading out."

Startled, Morkoth shook himself and ran after Sandy.

Nûrzgrat sat heavily on the ground, staring at the corpse. It took him a few minutes to realize Thakûf was still there. "You okay, boy?"

Thakûf just shrugged, barely shaken. "He wanted me to help him. I said no." Meeting his leader's shocked gaze, he held his head up proudly. "I said _no_."

* * *

><p>She could barely breathe as she ran like the hounds of hell were after her. It didn't matter that Brianna couldn't hear any sounds of pursuit. How many times had that pig, Nûlkol, sneaked up on her or Sandy without them hearing him?<p>

She killed someone. Actually purposefully, intentionally, taken the life of another. Now she wanted to vomit. Whether or not Nûlkol deserved it wouldn't matter in a court of law, and so didn't matter to Brianna now.

Back at camp, what must they be thinking? Was Nûrzgrat already sending Frûmâdûrz to kill her? Was Morkoth trying to protect Sandy, or was she now suffering for Brianna's actions, Morkoth stepping aside to allow it because of her?

She faltered as she burst through a line of tall scrubby bushes, suddenly terrified of what may be happening to Sandy. However, the sudden disappearance of the ground beneath her feet startled her completely out of those thoughts.

A steep embankment sent her tumbling down at least twenty feet into a gully. She felt truly lucky not to have broken or sprained anything in the fall. However, she quickly realized she wasn't alone.

Heading straight for her, not thirty yards away in the same depression, what looked like a full company of mounted men were riding at a gallop. Almost when she saw them, they saw her, and reined in their horses. A great deal of dust was kicked up. Several men in the front of the party dismounted and rushed toward her.

"Miss! Are you all right?" one man said, kneeling at her side and looking at her with grave concern. Dimly she recalled that she must still bear Ghru's bite marks, must still have blood running from the most recent ones...

"I... I am..." she stammered. These were the first humans she'd seen, and she felt even more frightened of them than she had been of the orcs.

"Eadwig, come," he said over his shoulder. Another man approached with a satchel. "He is a healer," he said gently, as if he spoke to a frightened animal. "Let him tend your wound."

Unsure what else to do, Brianna nodded helplessly, and Eadwig began to clean and loosely bind her injury.

"I am Wulfric of the Westfold," the first man said. "We ride to war, though we have been delayed by strange circumstance. How came you to be here? And in such strange garb?" His eyes flicked over her button-up shirt and blue jeans.

"I'm...," she said hesitantly, but that's all she got out before Sandy careened down the hillside and collided with Wulfric, nearly knocking him over.

"What the...?" she cried as she skidded to a halt. Only the shocking presence of so many armed and armored men and horses stopped her from swearing a blue streak at the undignified entrance. Shaking her head to clear it, Sandy looked around her in nearly the same bewildered manner Brianna had minutes earlier.

"This is an unexpected surprise," Wulfric said with an uncertain laugh. "Miss, you appear to be in better condition. Are you well? Do you two know each other, by chance?"

"Yeah," Sandy said, looking around at all the men. It seemed that only a few had dismounted and advanced; the rest stayed rigidly in the saddle, awaiting orders. Steam came off the flanks of all the horses. They had clearly been riding hard. "Yes, we're friends."

"Were you running from something? You both seem terribly out of sorts," he said solicitously.

"No, nothing," Sandy said quickly, shaking her head.

The healer, Eadwig, finished treating Brianna, and shook his head. "They were fresh marks, ma'am," he said suspiciously. "Looked like teeth made'em."

Wulfric's brow arched. "If there is any assistance you require..."

His offer was interrupted by the sudden distress of the horses. Nearly all of them reared their heads and fought their riders. Then another figure burst through the brush and skidded gracelessly down the slope on his backside.

Morkoth landed heavily within a yard of Wulfric, who fell on his own rear and crab-crawled away in shock. Eadwig likewise leapt backwards.

"Orc!" Wulfric yelled, rising and drawing his sword. The riders quickly regained control of their mounts and formed a half-circle around them. A bowman alighted from his horse, took aim, and fired. The arrow pierced Morkoth high on the shoulder, and he roared in pain.

"Stop!" Brianna cried, throwing herself in front of the Uruk. "Don't hurt him!"

"You did _not_ just shoot him!" Sandy snarled, standing and rolling up her sleeves.

"Quickly!" Wulfric shouted. "Step back, ladies!" He reached for Sandy's arm. He was met with the heel of her palm striking him under the chin hard enough to flip his head back sharply. The rest of him went with it.

In the brief moment of confusion, Sandy shot over her shoulder, "Get him back to camp. Nûrzgrat's not mad at you. Move. _Now_!"

Morkoth was reluctant to leave his woman, and resisted Brianna's attempt to pull him back up the slope at first. His shoulder was on fire, the urge to seek vengeance for his injury running hot through his veins.

"We have to warn Nûrzgrat, Morkoth! Hurry!" She nearly dragged the much bigger Uruk up the embankment.

"One more arrow gets loose, and I start busting out the whoop-ass, boys!" Sandy bellowed. The bowman had to move up and around to avoid hitting the women before the Uruk was lost to his sight. It was a mistake.

Sandy knocked the bow from his hands, spun him around, and held him in front of her as a shield, his own blade unsheathed and pressed to his throat. Everything stopped. She listened for a second, and was relieved to hear Morkoth's and Sandy's footfalls fading away.

Wulfric slowly raised one hand, rubbing his chin with the other. "Let him go," he said carefully. "We do not mean you harm. The orc..."

"Is nobody for you to worry yourselves about," she snapped. "One more step, and I cut him," she warned, noting another Rider advancing on her flank. He halted, looking to his leader for instructions.

"Don't you guys have a war to get to?" Sandy said, edging toward the embankment, dragging the nervous bowman with her. "You really ought to get a move on, you know. Time's a'wastin'. Wouldn't want all the fun to be over by the time you get there."

"I should not have to explain that orcs running freely in Rohan must be answered," Wulfric replied firmly. "And now I have another mystery. Why were you and your friend defending him?"

The vacuum left by his question and Sandy's difficulty in coming up with a satisfactory answer was filled suddenly with what had to be Nûrzgrat's trademarked bellow, roaring out unfamiliar words loud enough for anyone within a mile to hear. Sandy's face fell as she watched the Eorling do the math.

"There are more of them than just the one, are there not?" he growled.

* * *

><p>"I should have stayed," Morkoth snarled as they ran back to camp. "I should have fought for her."<p>

"Then you'd be dead," Brianna replied breathlessly. "Jesus, Morkoth, they shot first and didn't even ask any questions! Do you think you would have stood a chance against so many?"

"It does not matter. She will think me a coward now."

"Don't be stupid, of course she won't," Brianna snorted. In short order, they burst into camp.

Nûrzgrat glared at them. "I said bring them _both_ back, dammit! Where the hell is Sandy?" Then he realized an arrow was sticking out of his second's shoulder. "What the fuck...?"

Grimacing, Morkoth yanked the shaft out, forcing a groan of pain. "There are men, not a hundred yards away," he gasped. "They have Sandy. We have to leave."

"What...?"

"Now!" Morkoth roared.

"Thakûf, run that way," he snapped, pointing west and shoving the Uruk on his way. "Frû's gone to find Raz; he ran off." Glancing at Brianna, he shrugged uncomfortably. "Ghru's still out there somewhere."

"Come on," Morkoth growled, grabbing Brianna by the arm and heading after Thakûf.

Taking a deep breath, Nûrzgrat bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Ghrulagûrz, Frûmâdûrz, _âdhn-izgu! Shara-hai skaatut! Ats-izishu sûr!_" [Ghrulagûrz, Frûmâdûrz, we're leaving! Men are coming! Catch us up!] Then he grabbed up the packs, took one last look at Nûlkol, and ran for it.

* * *

><p>Some distance beyond the camp, Ghrulagûrz heard his leader's warning, and contemplated letting the men find him. He knew he wouldn't last five minutes. It would be over quickly. The pain, the humiliation... and Brianna would be safe. She would never be at his mercy again.<p>

But she would be at Nûlkol's.

Wincing, he slowly picked himself up. He had made a promise. He wasn't worth much, but he kept his word when it was within his power to do so. If he did not hold up his end of the bargain, Nûlkol would turn his attention to Brianna.

Every step hurt, but he shakily staggered westward, knowing that's where the group would go.

* * *

><p>"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Frûmâdûrz whispered near a shaking bush. Rolling his eyes, he was about to say something to taunt the little runt when he heard Nûrzgrat's voice.<p>

"Shit, Raz, come on!" Frû snarled, reaching into the bush and yanking Razkaar out by the hair. The little Uruk squealed. "Unless you wanna be around when more humans than you can stand show up, you better move your ass!"

"But Brianna..."

"She only had it in for Nûlkol," he snapped. "I think you're safe, unless you piss her off. I'd keep an eye on them, though." Shaking his head as they ran west, Frû growled under his breath, "I ain't underestimating those women ever again."


	23. If It Weren't for You Meddling Kids

**If It Weren't for You Meddling Kids**

"Do tell me what I should be seeing," Tulkas said dryly.

Vairë shook her head, baffled. "This is not what I expected."

The Champion glanced up from the scrying pool and leveled his stern gaze at her. "You bade me divert an entire company, in direct defiance of their king's summons, an act of _treason_ for them, to do what? Stir up a pack of Uruk-hai like a hornet's nest?"

"No! To provide an escape route for those women!"

"And _did_ they escape?" he countered, his anger mounting. "Did these supposedly terrified women at the mercy of abominations gratefully throw themselves into the arms of the men provided for that purpose?"

When Vairë didn't reply right away, Tulkas shook his head and snorted. "I will answer for you: they did not. And now I begin to see the problem. You but watch; you do not _listen_. Turn up the volume, for Eru's sake!"

Glaring at him, Vairë stretched forth her hand and gestured as of one gathering tendrils of smoke to herself. Slowly, the voices of the figures came to their ears.

_It hurts. Why does it hurt? I bleed, yet I see no blood._

_You're grieving. Haven't you ever lost someone you cared about?_

_I have never cared for anyone. Is this what men feel? When we slay their mates, their children? Do they feel this pain?_

_Yes. They do._

_Then...then they should kill us. They should kill us all._

Vairë swept her hand abruptly across the pool, silencing the voices. Mouth open in shock, she met the eyes of Tulkas.

"What devilry has Curunír wrought?" he breathed.

"We should... see how the one with the men fares," Vairë suggested uncomfortably. "I do not wish to look at those creatures any longer." Tulkas raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The Weaver used both hands, held slightly above the liquid, and moved them as if she were sliding a map across a table. The scene in the pool shifted.

Both beings jumped with surprise upon seeing one of the men backhand the bound woman across the face. Tulkas did not need to request an adjustment to the volume this time, for Vairë hastily did so.

_My patience grows thin. I will ask again: how many are there, and where have they gone?_

_Go...fuck yourself._

_Do I need to describe what has been done to the people of this region? Shall I take you to a village they have razed to the ground? Should I show you the women who have been used by Saruman's filthy orcs? How many?_

…

_HOW MANY?_

Vairë's hands were clumsy as she pushed the scene away. She felt sick.

"Not what you expected?" Tulkas asked quietly. She shook her head. "It would seem that she was better off before you tried to 'fix' things. Perhaps you should divert your attention to the purposes of this elusive _maia_. I do not think there is anything further you can, or should, do for those women."

Closing her eyes, the Weaver slowly nodded.


	24. Absence Makes the Heart Go Apeshit

**Absence Makes the Heart Go Apeshit**

Brianna hardly had time to worry about what may be happening to Sandy as she struggled not to throw up. Every day of travel had been at a steady, almost leisurely pace. Now they were running flat out across the plains, Morkoth and Nûrzgrat taking turns dragging her by an arm when she began to lag behind. Rests were brief, only moments spent anxious and gasping desperately for breath before resuming. Few words were spoken. If they didn't stop soon, her stomach would force her to do so in no uncertain terms.

Frûmâdûrz and Razkaar caught up to them quickly, but the small Uruk kept himself as far away from her as possible. She felt terrible.

There was still no sign that Ghrulagûrz was following them, or even heard the warning. Her stomach clenched with worry for him. If those men were so quick to attack Morkoth when he'd made no threatening move, they would likely be just as hasty if they found Ghrulagûrz. A sob broke free, and Brianna stumbled clumsily to her knees, clutching her midsection.

The Uruk-hai halted and turned back. Nûrzgrat hurried to her side and tried to pull her up. "Got no time for this, woman," he growled. Her only response was to vomit at his feet. He hastily leaped back out of the way. Throwing a helpless look at Morkoth, the leader just stood there at a loss. Once her stomach settled, Brianna burst into tears.

Morkoth had nothing to offer. He looked back over the way they'd come, scanning for any signs of pursuit. The other Uruk-hai took advantage of the rest and collapsed.

"Where's Sandy?" Razkaar asked when he caught his breath.

"The men got her," Nûrzgrat snarled, spitting on the ground. The little Uruk's eyes widened in shock and his mouth trembled. Fixing a hard look on Morkoth, Nûrzgrat snapped, "Maybe you'd like to explain what the fuck happened?"

Briefly, Morkoth did so, leaving the Uruk-hai stunned by the woman's sacrifice.

"What will they do to her?" Brianna cried, looking from one Uruk to another.

"She's one of them," Frûmâdûrz replied uncertainly. "Probably... nothing."

"She held one of them at knifepoint," Nûrzgrat said slowly. "That ain't gonna go over well."

Frûmâdûrz shook his head. "I can't believe she did that, for _us_." He narrowed his eyes at Brianna. "And not five minutes after _you_ fucking killed one of us, bitch."

Nûrzgrat grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. "She did what I could not," he snarled close to Frûmâdûrz's face. "You make one move to avenge that worthless bit of filth, and I'll take you down. I fucked up once; I ain't doin' it twice." Releasing Frûmâdûrz, he pushed him backwards a few steps, and leveled a glare across the entire group. "That goes for all of you."

They were all startled to hear Razkaar yell, "She's alive, and we're leaving her behind?"

"We got no choice," Nûrzgrat sighed. "You heard Morkoth. A hundred horsemen against us five? What the fuck are we supposed to do? We don't have enough swords, we ain't armored... A good bit of fun for them, none for us. You wanna try goin' up and askin' them nicely to give us our woman back, you go right ahead." He glanced at Morkoth and did a double-take. The Uruk was shaking, his jaw clenched hard, eyes narrowed and fixed eastward.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked quietly.

Morkoth didn't reply for a moment. His face twitched as he fought to master whatever was going on inside him. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat, teeth so tightly clenched he could barely speak.

"It hurts. Why does it hurt? I bleed, yet I see no blood."

Brianna calmed herself, and approached the stricken Uruk. "You're grieving. Haven't you ever lost someone you cared about?"

He shook his head. "I have never cared for anyone. Is this what men feel? When we slay their mates, their children? Do they feel this pain?"

"Yes. They do."

A sob tore from Morkoth's throat. "Then...then they should kill us. They should kill us all." Covering his face with his hands, his shoulders shook as he wept.

Nûrzgrat looked away uncomfortably.

While she was certainly frantic over Sandy, Brianna was nearly as beside herself over Ghrulagûrz. Not knowing where he was, or even if he lived... "Can any of you tell... if Ghrulagûrz is coming or not? Can you... I don't know, smell him, or hear him?"

Nûrzgrat gave her a surprised look, but recovered himself. "Don't worry about him. He knows how to hide, believe me."

"Do you think he knows...?" she asked hesitantly. To her relief, she didn't have to elaborate.

"Not likely," the leader replied. "Unless he went back to camp first. He ain't that stupid. I bet those whiteskins are crawling all over the place now, and he can smell'em a mile off. He'll catch up when he's ready. Sometimes... it takes him awhile."

She nodded quickly, not wanting Nûrzgrat to feel compelled to go into any further detail.

All at once, Sandy's fate and precarious position seemed to finally sink into Razkaar's mind, and he started to cry. It was the most pathetic thing Brianna had ever witnessed. The little Uruk squatted down on the ground and held his arms over his head as if he were warding off blows, and wailed. Always nearby due to their proximity in ages, Thakûf knelt beside the stricken runt and just sat there, unsure what to do beyond just being near.

Nûrzgrat forced himself to take charge of the morose band. "We gotta find some cover," he said gruffly. "If we're waitin' for Ghrulagûrz to catch up, we better not be standing about like targets." Morkoth pulled himself together and joined Frûmâdûrz as they ranged out, keeping their eyes open for any shelter or hiding place for the group.

Frûmâdûrz found an outcropping of rock with several scrubby trees and bushes, and they made for the welcome sight. Once they were concealed, Nûrzgrat took Brianna aside.

"I got no excuse for what happened," he said awkwardly. "You shouldn't've had to do that. I know it ain't what you do."

"Nûrzgrat," she said, holding up a shaky hand, "_I'm_ sorry. I went nuts for a minute. I promise I won't hurt anyone else."

"I ain't afraid of that," he snorted. "That piece of shit asked for it. He messed with your mate. Now, don't get uppity with me," he growled when she bristled, "I don't know what the fuck your people call it, but from where I'm sittin', if you're willin' to kill for him, you're his mate. End of discussion."

Looking away, Brianna decided it just wasn't worth getting into an argument about, and let it go.

"I was stupid," he went on. "I thought we left all that shit behind us. This bunch ain't never been the type to use a _globatish_ like Ghrulagûrz used to be, except Nûlkol, but you've seen him torment a little thing like Raz just for fun, so it shouldn't be a surprise. Anyway, you... were strong, and I wasn't." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I never thought I'd ask forgiveness of anyone, but I feel like I gotta do it now."

"It's not me you need to ask," Brianna replied, then said hesitantly, "Nûrzgrat, he said something... he said that when we... when Morkoth and Ghru are 'done' with us, it would be his turn. Was that... was that true?"

"Maybe at first," Nûrzgrat conceded with an embarrassed sigh, "but... well... I don't think there's any chance of those boys givin' you up. It's, uh... a snaga way, you know. I didn't think about it, but they sort of... keep their females to themselves. I once did some raiding with some snaga in my company, and while we were on watch duty, one of'em told me some things. When snaga take a mate, they don't share her with no one else, and they... well, they don't go fucking any other females either. Strange." He laughed awkwardly.

"Not _so_ strange. Humans tend to devote themselves to a single... mate as well. It's probably closer to being 'normal' behavior for intelligent species than promiscuity."

"Promis-what?"

"Promiscuity," she repeated, then smiled a little. "Mating with several partners. Are you... related to these snaga?"

"In a roundabout way, I suppose," he said, shrugging uncomfortably. Then he rolled his eyes and grimaced. "You could call us 'cousins,' if you like. They're orcs, just not... like us. A bit, but... not exactly."

"I see," she nodded.

"You did a good thing, you know," he growled firmly. "Don't go thinkin' you made a mistake. I wish I'd had the balls to do it." Grunting a humorless laugh, he snarled, "Sandy said she 'understood' why I couldn't. Wish I did." Shifting awkwardly, he said, "Very impressive. Ghrulagûrz did a good job teaching you to throw."

"It's terribly ironic that _he_ gave me the tools I needed, considering why I used them," she mused.

"You did what a mate does," he said with conviction, then faltered. "At least, as I understand it. And Sandy as well. If someone told me even a month ago that my life would hang in the balance and a whiteskin female would tip it in my favor, I'd've kicked him in the balls and told him he was mad."

Brianna tilted her head to the side and regarded the fierce Uruk carefully. "You're lonely, aren't you, Nûrzgrat?"

He shot a startled look at her, and immediately shook his head. "Of course not! Why the fuck would I be lonely, with all you lot trying my patience and causing no end of fucking trouble? Peace is what I want. A moment of peace where I can sleep through a night without someone getting their ass kicked, or weird smells winding everyone up, or worrying about who's not talking to who..."

She waited patiently through his blustering tirade, unconvinced, as he finally ground to a halt. She arched her eyebrows expectantly. He winced and looked away.

"I see them with you and Sandy," he said quietly, "and I want that. I don't know why I do, but I do, and I hate that I do. I got no time for that shit." He heaved a great, shuddering sigh. "I've been such a fool. I ran out of Isengard, thinking I could save us. All we needed was a couple of females and we could save the whole race. If you and Sandy hadn't shown up, we would've had to find others. Women that grew up here, and know our kind." He grimaced, then cast his gaze skyward. "We'd never get closer than sniffing distance, if that. Killed on sight, likely. We'd _have_ to force it. I wouldn't have given it a thought, until you two showed up." He met Brianna's gaze. "You opened my eyes."

"You've opened mine, too," she replied. "I thought orcs were monsters."

Nûrzgrat chuckled. "We're still that, woman. Look at that waste of flesh you killed."

Brianna shook her head. "You and the others aren't Nûlkol. You've never been like him."

He arched his eyebrows. How little she knew... "What about Ghrulagûrz? He bit you twice. Don't think he's a monster?"

"Tell me why he would do that," she countered. "He said it was to claim me. Why would he do it again, if he already considers me his?"

Nûrzgrat shifted uneasily. "You ain't gonna like this," he warned. "It ain't just for marking, what he did. We all feel it. It's the orc in us." Avoiding her eyes, he said quietly, "We like blood. That's kind of a given, I think. You knew that. But... the blood of a mate... It's... different." He shrugged, and an embarrassed laugh escaped him. "I've been told by snaga that... it's part of... uh... mating. Gets both the orc and his mate... goin', if you know what I mean. I've seen Morkoth nosing around Sandy's neck a lot. He's holdin' himself back 'cause he doesn't want to hurt her, but I can tell he wants to... uh... taste her."

"So," Brianna said slowly, "this isn't... because he wants to... eat me?"

Startled, Nûrzgrat looked blankly at her for a moment before replying. "No. It ain't nothin' like that."

"It's... arousing? Like kissing?"

Nûrzgrat rolled his eyes and snorted. "Better than kissing. I kissed you and it didn't do a damn thing to me. Why you whiteskins swear by it, I got no idea. Sandy's even got Morkoth convinced it's something good, but he's so fucked over with his 'man's way' obsession, he'll take anything she throws at him and tell himself he likes it."

Brianna couldn't help smiling at the Uruk. "I promise you, Nûrzgrat, if I have to walk the length and breadth of this world to find her, you will have a mate."

He shook his head and laughed uneasily. "No woman would have me. I'm too much of an old bastard." Grimacing, he added, "And a fucking _orc_, besides."

"We'll see." Grinning and patting his arm reassuringly, she said, "You'll know exactly what we're talking about as soon as you kiss her. It's a whole different experience."

* * *

><p>Wulfric paced angrily by the smoldering remains of the orcs' campfire. In the middle of the hot coals, the charred corpse of one they left behind smoked. Thankfully, he'd stopped upwind of the foul thing. The woman knelt on the ground facing him, hands bound behind her back, a malevolent glare piercing through him. Threats didn't seem to move her.<p>

He stayed behind with two troops, numbering twenty men. The rest, he sent on their way to answer Theoden King's call to arms. With luck, he'd be able to sort out this orc problem before any of the filthy beasts found the scattered homesteads not three miles away, hugging the border with Eregion.

Within the perimeter of the campsite, there were so many footprints it was impossible to tell how many orcs there were. Several groups of tracks led in different directions, as though they'd scattered upon realizing their doom was approaching. The woman hadn't told him anything, not her name, not the number of orcs, not even why she had defended the one and still protected the others. Most of what came out of her mouth was profanity, just what he would expect of one who had taken up with the foul beasts.

"I wonder if you are deaf," he mused sarcastically. "Perhaps I do not speak loudly enough." Looming over her, he yelled in her face. "How many orcs?"

"Enough," she snapped.

Furious at her continued resistance, the Eorling backhanded her across the face. "My patience grows thin. I will ask again: how many are there, and where have they gone?"

"Go...fuck yourself."

"Do I need to describe what has been done to the people of this region?" he snarled, folding his arms over his chest. "Shall I take you to a village they have razed to the ground? Should I show you the women who have been used by Saruman's filthy orcs? How many?"

The woman stubbornly refused to speak. Wulfric punched her hard in the mouth, nearly knocking her down, then grabbed her abused chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"HOW MANY?" he roared.


	25. Rohirrim Standoff

**Rohirrim Standoff**

Wulfric didn't particularly like how things were going. If his wife could see him, treating a woman so basely, she'd bend his ear for a good while. He'd likely find himself well accommodated in the barn for at least a fortnight. He had to keep reminding himself that it was for _her_ sake that he pressed so hard. Her, and their children, unprotected in the border village, no way to warn them of the coming threat.

Glaring at the one person who could save them by giving him even a little information, he flexed his bruised hand, shaking the fingers out. She was tough, whoever she was. While he'd held himself back from actually knocking any of her teeth out, he'd come close, and her mouth was bloody from it. One eye was swollen shut, and the other watched him grimly, defiantly. It was a relief when his scout came running back with the first good news he'd heard in at least an hour.

"Sir, I found them," he cried, halting to catch his breath. He shot a look at the battered woman, and winced slightly. "Their tracks, anyway. They converged west of here, a good half mile off."

"Can you tell how many there are?"

"Pretty clearly, sir," he replied. "They're unshod. I made out at least five different sets of tracks."

"What about the other woman?"

"She's with them, sir," he said, swallowing uncomfortably.

Wulfric nodded. Turning to the red-haired woman, now with her eyes closed, he snarled, "You might have saved yourself a good deal of discomfort." Taking a deep breath, he began issuing orders. "Mount up, Eorlingas! The beasts have been found!" A cheer went up, and the men began mounting their steeds and forming into lines.

Sandy didn't resist as she was roughly lifted onto the back of a horse. Thankfully, it wasn't that detestable captain's. They'd learned their lesson quickly, and didn't untie her hands even now. Sitting sideways in the saddle in front of one of the men, she didn't speak a word of protest. Not one word.

The men were going to find the Uruk-hai, and there was nothing she could do about it. Morkoth's roar of pain kept repeating itself in her head, and her stomach tightened each time. If she ever saw him again... he would likely be in the process of dying at the hands of these sons of bitches.

There was no small voice in the back of her mind telling her nonsense like _but he's an orc_, the way it used to only a few days ago. Instead, she felt things: his arms around her in the pool, his warm breath against her neck at night, his awkward yet eager mouth when they kissed... _Yes, Morkoth, you must do it again._ Her bruised, abraded eye stung as tears slid down her cheeks. She found that she far preferred a monster who _didn't_ act like one, to a man who _did_. Sometimes, it was as simple as that.

* * *

><p>They were huddled together in a hollow, hidden by trees and shrubs in the shadow of the rocks. Ghrulagûrz still hadn't shown himself, though Nûrzgrat once caught a whiff of him on the wind.<p>

"He's out there," he whispered, and Brianna breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't think he's gonna come any closer for a bit yet, but at least he's near."

Barely visible through the branches, Morkoth stood watch, eyes glued eastward. Brianna wanted to embrace him, comfort him, but didn't dare. He likely wouldn't understand the gesture as being one shared by friends in pain. Though he hadn't shed any more tears after losing control for that one moment, neither had he spoken. He hadn't taken his eyes off the horizon, either. She wondered if he'd throw himself on the mercy of those men, if only to see Sandy safe. He didn't seem to realize or care that he would be slaughtered before her eyes in that brief moment.

Razkaar had eventually cried himself to sleep. It had taken awhile, but Thakûf had likewise dissolved for a few minutes, and now sniffled quietly beside the runt. Frûmâdûrz, while not openly hostile to her, still sometimes shot Brianna a look that made her slightly uncomfortable.

Now was as good a time as any, she mused as she shifted closer to the repellent Uruk in the dimness of their hiding place. He glared at her briefly then looked away.

"I'm... I'm sorry," she whispered, hugging her knees. "I didn't know you would take it this hard."

Frûmâdûrz slowly turned his head to look at her. "Take it hard? You fucking killed him, right in front of us."

"I have no excuse for what I did," she replied. "What he did to Ghru... after all he's been through... it was... I couldn't just let it go, let him do it again. Not to Ghru, not to me, not to Sandy..."

"He didn't do a damned thing to you," the Uruk growled.

"You think he had to?" she countered defensively. "Even leaving me out of the equation, he assaulted Ghru. _My_ Ghru, dammit. Nobody touches him but me." Staring off into the darkness, her throat uncomfortably constricted by a lump that had risen at some point, she said unsteadily, "We still have unfinished business, he and I."

Ignoring the incredulous Uruk beside her, Brianna went on, "I'm going to talk to them. Reason with them. They have to let her go. Let _us_ go. We're not hurting anyone."

"We've hurt them before," Frûmâdûrz said. "All of us have. They don't forget, those whiteskins. Take one look at us, slaughter us all. Even if none of us ever set foot in their land, we're dead."

"That shouldn't be," she replied, shaking her head as if by logic she could change it. "Where Sandy and I come from, civilians aren't supposed to be killed. I would consider you all civilians, since you're not in uniform and you've obviously abandoned the army. Maybe you'd be... deserters or something, but you wouldn't be soldiers. And it would be completely out of the question to make _you_ pay for everything your army has done."

"You come from a strange world," he commented. "It don't matter to whiteskins what we've done or not done. They'll even cut Raz to ribbons, and he ain't done a thing to nobody."

"Do me a favor, Frû," she said, looking seriously at him. "When they come, I'm going to talk to them. Please keep Morkoth and Ghru from breaking cover. If they're as... quick to judge as you say, I don't want anything happening to any of you, least of all those two."

"Hmph," Frûmâdûrz grunted. "Want your protectors, do you?"

"I want my _friends_," Brianna insisted. "I don't want to see anyone die. I don't want Sandy to watch it, either. If anything happens to Morkoth... it would break her heart."

Frûmâdûrz just stared at her for several seconds, trying to process her words. They made no sense to him at all. "But... we're orcs. Take away all the stupid man's blood runnin' wild through us, and we're orcs. How can you...? Or her...?"

Smiling with no little embarrassment, Brianna ducked her head. "We see a lot more than that, Frûmâdûrz."

"They're coming," Morkoth said suddenly, his voice emotionless, nearly dead, yet the effect of his words was electric. Everyone shot to attention; even the young ones woke and stared, terrified, at their elders.

"Horses?" Nûrzgrat asked, moving up to join his second. Morkoth nodded wordlessly.

"I'll go," Brianna said. Nûrzgrat looked at her, stunned.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"If they see any of you, they'll kill you," she said, meeting Frûmâdûrz's eyes. "I don't want to see any of you hurt. Nûrzgrat, Morkoth: stay under cover. I'll meet them. Maybe... maybe I can talk sense into them."

"Hmph. Maybe birds'll fly outta my ass," Nûrzgrat growled, unconvinced. "They'll just get a hold of _you_, then, and we're fucked. You think Morkoth's a wreck, wait'll you see Ghrulagûrz if he finds out."

"Keep him from breaking cover, I beg of you," she pleaded. "If you see or smell him, stop him."

Shrugging, Nûrzgrat nodded.

The sound of hooves on the ground came to Brianna's ears, and she huddled between Nûrzgrat and Morkoth, peering through the underbrush. Steeling herself, she crawled out and walked nervously out into the open.

There were considerably fewer men than before, and she sighed with relief. But still, twenty well armed and armored men could easily overcome five Uruk-hai and two women. The fact that she stood in front of them without even Ghrulagûrz's knives to defend herself suddenly flashed into her mind, and she shivered, hugging herself.

When they saw her, they reined in their horses, slowing to a stop. The one she recognized as Wulfric dismounted and drew his sword as he approached.

"So we meet again," he said, bowing curtly. She sensed he was not being particularly sincere in his courtesy. "Brandt, is this where the tracks end?"

Another man alighted from his horse and approached, eyes on the ground. Nodding, he said, "Aye, sir. They go off into the trees."

"You defend them as well," Wulfric sneered. "You do realize, we do not require your 'permission' to kill them, nor are we thwarted by you standing here between us and our prey."

"Where's Sandy?" Brianna asked stiffly, ignoring him.

"Sandy, is it?" he said, eyebrows lifting. "She did not think us worthy to know her name."

"If you have harmed her," Brianna warned, "I won't be responsible for what happens to you."

"What will happen?" he taunted. "Five orcs will throw themselves on our swords in her defense? Orcs so ill-equipped they lack shoes? Do they even have weapons?"

"Don't tell them anything!" a voice cried from among the men. Brianna straightened, straining her eyes to find the flaming red hair within the sea of blond.

"Perhaps you will tell me, where your friend would not," he went on as if there had been no interruption. "Why do you defend them? Have they bewitched you? Have they lied about what mischief they plan in the Westfold? Do they hold you in thrall by... some other means?"

"They just want peace," Brianna replied quietly. "We're leaving... this country. Or trying to. Please. Just... let us go. All of us. We aren't hurting anyone, and we don't mean to."

Wulfric stared at her blankly for several seconds. "Five orcs. Not... _hurting_ anyone. I confess, I have not heard such nonsense."

"Nonetheless, it is true."

"There are villages west of here," he seethed, his voice pitched low. Even in his fury, he didn't want the orcs who must be watching from the trees to hear such tempting information. "Women, children. Will you stand aside and pretend you cannot see when they descend on the helpless and slaughter them? Will you ignore the pleas of the women, the cries of the children?"

"They will do _nothing_ to them," Brianna hissed fiercely. "We will certainly _not_ allow them to hurt anyone."

"Not _'allow'_? What power do you have that they will listen to a word you say?"

"Not... power, exactly," she replied uncertainly. "Just... we're... They don't want to cause any trouble, don't you understand? We're trying to get away from the war, all of us. Please let us go."

Wulfric shook his head. "If they walk freely in my country, I am obligated by my king's command to slay them."

"They are my _friends_," Brianna said through clenched teeth, eyes filling with tears. "You can't. You just... can't."

"Your... what?" he asked, incredulous. "We are still discussing _orcs_, are we not?"

"Yes," she sobbed, nodding vigorously. "They want to live. They haven't hurt us. They've... they've protected us."

"You and your friend... they've... _protected_ you. From what?"

"From stupid asshats like you!" Sandy shouted from somewhere among the men. Wulfric shot an annoyed look over his shoulder.

"Let her go," Brianna begged. "Please."

"You want me to release the wench," he snarled, "and give her up to an orc's mercy?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Let you both go... with them," Wulfric continued, still having a hard time getting a handle on what the woman was asking of him.

"Yes," Brianna repeated. She clasped her hands together and tucked them under her chin, eyes wide. "_Please_."

He stared at her for several moments. Without turning, he raised a hand and gestured. Some movement among the men occurred, then one came forward, leading a battered but relieved Sandy into the open.

Brianna quivered for a moment, then rushed forward to embrace her friend. A moment later, Sandy's hands were cut free, and she threw her arms around Brianna in a fierce hug. Then the horses went wild.

A commotion in the underbrush startled the men, and they all drew their swords. The women broke apart.

"No!" Sandy shouted. She and Brianna both leaped between the nearest men and the orcs' hiding place.

Out of the trees shot Morkoth, eyes locked on his woman, seemingly oblivious to all else. Seeing him, Sandy choked on any further words, and raced toward him. When they met, she hurled herself into his arms, wrapping arms _and_ legs around him. He held her aloft fiercely, once more losing control and weeping with relief.

Brianna looked at Wulfric, holding up his hand to halt his bowmen from shooting, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"They won't hurt those people," she said, her voice trembling. "I promise you that."


	26. A Lot of Explaining to Do

**A Lot of Explaining to Do**

Brianna didn't get a chance to address Sandy's condition with the captain. The bushes suddenly rustled violently, and an outraged Nûrzgrat stomped out into the open, one of the Uruk-hai's few broad-bladed swords in his hand. As they had when Morkoth appeared, the horsemen scrambled in their defense. Brianna rushed forward to intercept the Uruk leader.

"Stop, stop, stop!" she cried, planting her hands on his chest and pushing against him. Nûrzgrat's momentum carried him forward, nearly knocking the slight woman to the ground. "Nûrzgrat, no!"

Wulfric raised his own sword, and grimly prepared himself to do battle. If only that cursed woman would get out of the way...

Jabbing a clawed finger in the captain's face, Nûrzgrat bellowed, "Man's honor, pah!" He spat at Wulfric's feet. "Fight _me_, if you have the balls!"

"There will be no fighting!" Brianna yelled. "Please!"

"_Shara amirz grushat sharlob nar skûtûrz ta krimpuzat krimp-sha_," the Uruk snarled with contempt. "I should gut you where you stand!" [A man who strikes a defenseless woman he has tied with rope.]

His leader's words cut through Morkoth's fog, and he released Sandy quickly, stepping back to look at her. She tried to hide the bruises, but there just wasn't any way she could. The huge Uruk's face contorted with rage, and he turned on the captain.

"Tell me who did this," he growled, fists clenching, body quivering.

"What do you think of your 'man's ways' now, eh?" Nûrzgrat sneered.

"That's enough, both of you," Sandy admonished. "Nûrzgrat, lower your sword. You, horse guy, you too."

"Wulfric," he supplied automatically. It was the strangest place he'd ever been; he would have expected such indignation of his own men, but not of a pack of orcs.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Brianna snapped, folding her arms over her chest and glaring sternly at Wulfric.

"He only tied me up because he knew I'd _kick his ass_," Sandy snarled.

"Shut up, you're not helping," Brianna said.

"She had information," the horse lord barked, trying very hard to look justified. Pointing an accusing finger at Sandy, he said, "She would not cooperate. She _swore_ at me."

"She swears at _everyone_," Brianna retorted. "_You're_ nothing special." Looking him up and down with distaste, she spat, "You call yourself a man."

"Feel good and strong now, do you?" Nûrzgrat taunted. Brianna truly could not restrain or even block him; he knew this. He could easily knock her aside. But if there was one thing the women had taught him, it was that _words_ could help or hinder far better than swords. "Come for me, _pushdug_! Or would you prefer me shackled?"

He smirked with satisfaction when Wulfric winced.

Sandy was having a much harder time with Morkoth. He seemed beyond speech, straining against her as she held his arms and dug her heels in. His eyes were focused on the horse lord, teeth bared, a menacing growl rumbling in his chest. She didn't dare release even one of his arms to turn his attention to her.

"Morkoth!" she cried. If only her head reached higher than his sternum! "Dammit, Morkoth, look at me!"

"You took her from me, then you _beat_ her!" Morkoth roared. "You are _men_! You do not _do_ these things! You slaughter us, _us_, for less than this!"

He would have shoved Sandy aside and gone for Wulfric's throat if several Riders hadn't converged, encircling their captain with swords out. The blades were pointed at the enraged Uruk, some actually touching his chest warningly. He seemed oblivious. Sandy, however, was not.

"That is _enough_!" she bellowed at a volume that even impressed Nûrzgrat. All eyes focused on her. "If _anyone_ should be pissed beyond all reason, it should be _me_." Turning to the men, she shoved several out of the way and stood before Wulfric. Poking him in the chest, she snarled, "If I wasn't standing between you and him, you'd be dead. It would take a shitload more men than you've got to drop him before he had your head torn off. Tell him what you told me, and hope to god he has an ounce of sympathy."

Wulfric blinked, his eyes flicking between the woman and the orc. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He and his men were on their way to rid the land of filth like these creatures, and here they stood, being schooled by a pair of orcs on the proper way to treat a lady.

"Start talking, whiteskin," Nûrzgrat snarled. "I'm in charge of him, but I don't have no say when it comes to his mate. You fucked with the wrong female."

"We have left our families behind," Wulfric said quickly. Though the idea of a woman being referred to as the mate of an orc was repellent in the extreme, and in spite of the fact that they outnumbered the orcs ten to one, he knew he was in the wrong here, and for the sake of his honor, if only in the eyes of his own men, he caved. "Women and children. Farms, villages, to the west of here. Please understand," he begged, "I feared for their safety. I saw you, and I believed they were in danger."

Morkoth did his level best to see the man's side, but it was too difficult. He could only see his _ghaashkarn_, and the things done to her. "Why? Why would you hurt her? She did nothing to you. _Nothing_."

Again, Wulfric winced. "No. She did not. Nor did she help me. She did not answer when I asked how many of you there were. She told me to... do vile things to myself when I asked where you were going, what your intentions were." Straightening to his full height, the horse lord lifted his chin defiantly. "Tell me, then. Answer these questions for me. Reassure me that you mean no harm."

"Oh, we ain't innocent," Nûrzgrat growled. "And we'll do harm if we feel the need to. One thing you can be sure of, though – we want _the fuck_ out of your cursed country. You lot _murdered_ all our folk, stirred up the fucking _trees_ against us, destroyed our home... and now you got the fucking gall to tell us you were so afraid of what _we_ would do that you beat the fuck out of a bound woman!"

"I think that about covers it, thanks, Nûrzgrat," Sandy said. "Now, I suggest you take my initial advice, and turn your asses around. Go fight Sauron, you retarded mother-fuckers, and leave us the hell alone. We _promise_ not to prank call your stupid little villages and farms on our way out."

"Yes, please go," Brianna said, her softer voice seemingly a tiny island in a stormy sea. "You have done enough. I promise, we will avoid any settlements between here and the border. Just... please let us go in peace."

"His deed must be answered," Morkoth insisted.

"You want an answer?" Sandy asked. Grimacing, she turned to the captain and pulled back her fist. He seemed to steel himself for the inevitable blow, perhaps felt he deserved it. When she hit him, it wasn't where, or how, he expected. She suddenly shifted position, and shot a foot straight out at the hip, catching him in the groin so hard he was thrown back. Staggering, he toppled over with a strangled cry. Every male in the vicinity, and a few hiding in the bushes, winced in sympathy. She nodded with satisfaction. "There's your answer."

* * *

><p>The Uruk-hai and the women put another few miles between themselves and the departing Rohirrim before settling down to camp. The sense of relief was so great, no one felt inclined to set a watch. Nûrzgrat just shrugged off the idea. Everyone was worn out. Sandy and Morkoth slipped away for some alone time for a more proper reunion.<p>

Lying in the tall grass beneath the starless sky, they held each other and kissed desperately, as if they had been separated for days, not hours. Their legs tangled, and they pressed so tightly to one another their heartbeats thundered in unison. Feeling him hard against her inflamed her passion even more.

"Morkoth," she breathed against his mouth, "I missed you so much."

"I thought you would leave me," he whispered.

Frowning, she drew back and looked at him. "Why would you think that?"

"You said... you said I am the enemy you hold close," he reminded her. "You only stay because you have no choice."

A slight smile curved her mouth, and she touched his cheek. "I had a choice. So did Brie. Where are we now?"

His lips twitched. "You are with us."

"Bingo," she said, grinning.

As he looked at her bruised face, his brow furrowed. He drew a clawed finger gently down her swollen temple. "I should have killed him for this."

"Those men would have killed _you_, whether you were in the right or not," she said firmly. "All I could think about was them finding you and finishing you off. I didn't care what he did to me. I couldn't bear him hurting you." Sandy tentatively touched the bloody shoulder of his tunic. "If I'd had to watch you die..." Her voice faltered in reaction to her fears.

Morkoth kissed her forehead. "You and Brie are wiser than we are. She told us to stay hidden. I could not. I saw you, and..."

"I don't know if I could have stood it any longer either, knowing how close you were," she said, laughing slightly. Then she grew serious. "Morkoth, I want... to feel you... touching me."

"I _am_ touching you," he replied softly.

"Not... my face," she said. He drew his hand back, his brow creased with concern. "Not because it hurts. I mean... my _skin_. I want to feel you against me."

He stiffened slightly, uncertain. "Tell me what you wish."

"Take off your tunic, Morkoth."

Sitting up, he slowly peeled the garment off. Sandy also sat up, and unbuttoned her shirt. Her fingers trembled on the buttons, shook violently when she unhooked her bra. Lying back down, she embraced him with one arm, and touched his chest. His yellow eyes, now the color of honey, took in her pale flesh as if he gazed upon a priceless treasure.

She slid her hand down his arm and took hold of his hand. Hesitantly, nervously, she placed his hand on her breast.

"I... do n-not know what to... to do," he stammered, swallowing hard. He couldn't take his eyes off his own hand, as if he expected it to proceed on its own and instruct him.

"You... do this," she said, contracting her fingers over his, guiding him in massaging the soft mound. A low moan escaped her, and she shuddered with pleasure at his touch, awkward and inexperienced though it was.

"Do I hurt you?" he asked, alarmed.

"Not at all," she said with a slight smile. Encouraged, he took over, gently but firmly kneading her breast. Sandy's back arched, and she moaned again.

Reaching up, she wrapped her arm around his neck and drew him down to her. He was taken aback at the ferocity of her kiss, and growled deep in his throat. He had to abandon her breast as she pulled him against her, flattening herself against his chest.

Sandy's hand slid down his ravaged back, momentarily halted by his breeches. Then she found she wasn't finished. This closeness with him was wonderful, but it would not be enough.

"Morkoth," she breathed into his pointed ear. "Take off your pants."

He froze. His breathing was quickened by the desire he felt, and his erection was nearly painful, but he was suddenly filled with fear.

"You are... certain?"

"If you don't get the god damned things off, I'll rip them off," she growled without heat. He laughed nervously, but sat up again to untie the laces.

Sandy didn't waste any time; she unbuttoned, unzipped and shed her jeans and panties so quickly he didn't know what to think. Trembling, he finished stripping and just sat there, looking at her uncertainly.

He wasn't small. A thread of worry ran through Sandy as she looked at him. She almost changed her mind. It wasn't that he was abnormally large, but he was a very tall Uruk, and _all_ of him was proportionately sized.

"It will hurt," he said, "It always hurts."

"I can imagine," she breathed. "Hurts you too, I suspect." He nodded. "Okay, then, we'll do this carefully." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "If all you've ever known was... unwilling partners, you probably aren't aware that... well, women who are _willing_... get... a bit wet. Makes it slide in easier. I think... given your... endowments... maybe a little more help is going to be needed."

"Wet?" he said, obviously perplexed.

"Yes. Um... would you be adverse to... uh... using your mouth first?"

His eyebrows slowly rose. "My mouth..."

"And... tongue."

"Like... kissing?"

"Yeah, sort of like that."

"Will it... please you, if I do that?"

"I think it probably will, if you keep your teeth out of it," she said with a wan smile. "But... first things first, okay?" She gathered him to her, kissing him, and drawing him down to lie with her. "It would be nice if you kissed your way down," she suggested softly. He drew back and looked at her through half-lidded eyes, a slight smile on his face.

Sandy faltered. "Oh god, you're really an orc, aren't you?" she breathed.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes. Had you forgotten?"

"You wouldn't believe how often I do," she said with a laugh.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Hell, no," she replied, kissing him fiercely.

"I go down now," he said when he got his breath back.

"Happy trails," she said breathlessly.

Sandy was not inexperienced. Two men she'd slept with were _very_ well-versed. Yet with Morkoth's careful attentions and shy uncertainty, just the feel of his lips on her body as he descended set her on fire. Only occasionally she felt his teeth graze across her skin. At her breast, he flicked his tongue over her hardened nipple and sent her over the moon. He lingered there for a moment, driving her mad with wanting him. He seemed to delight in the effect he was having on her.

As he closed in on the sweet spot, she could hear the feral growl building in his chest. By now, he must be getting bombarded with pheromones, and he was heading for the source. Sandy thought her legs might break, she had them spread so wide in wanton anticipation.

When his tongue touched her, a shuddering moan flowed out of her like a sigh.

"Do I hurt you?" he asked.

"Shut up and get back in there," she snapped, grabbing his head and pushing it back down. He chuckled as he obeyed. For being an amateur, Morkoth drove her wild with his tongue. Or perhaps she wanted him so badly that _anything_ he did would get her worked up. Whatever the reason, her body responded to him, her hips rolling sensuously, cooing and mewling gasps erupting from her throat. Then he stopped.

"I cannot...," he gasped, teeth clenched. Leaning above her on his arms, he shook all over. "Want... _need_ to be inside you... can't... Sandy..."

"Okay, okay," she replied, drawing him close. "I think we're ready now." She could tell how impatient he was even as he grudgingly accepted her kiss. "I'm going to touch you," she said quietly. "Guide you."

He nodded, but still wasn't ready when she took hold of him. His eyes flared wide and he looked nearly in a panic.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"No one... has ever touched me," he said awkwardly.

Smiling, she gently stroked him a few times, watching with amusement as his eyes nearly rolled back into his head and his mouth hung open as he moaned. "Enter me slowly," she said quietly. He fought his way back to attention, and nodded.

She could feel him filling her, and groaned deeply. Her hands convulsed, fingernails digging into his hips, adding her own marks to the welts he bore.

"Do I hurt you?" he asked again, concern overwhelming the pleasure he was obviously experiencing.

"A little, but it's a good kind of hurt," she replied. "You?"

"Good," he gasped, sinking deeper inside her. "Wet is good." Then he stopped again. "What now?"

"Back and forth, slowly," she replied, wrapping her legs around him and hooking her ankles behind his thighs. Thus anchored, she matched the rhythm he began to set, pivoting her hips to meet him. Her responsiveness was an entirely new sensation, and he was clearly having a very hard time holding back. "Easy does it," she said gently, though speech wasn't easy for her at the moment. "We have all night."

He held out longer than she thought he would. When she began to really enjoy it, getting close to her own peak, the low growl in his chest suddenly broke out in a roar. Collapsing upon her, he held her tightly against him, thrusting his hips wildly.

Between grunting gasps, he cried, "Can't... too hard... forgive... "

"This is good," she groaned. "Don't worry, this is good."

When Sandy came, she did not do so quietly. Her cries echoed in the still night air, accompanied by Morkoth's roars as he exploded inside her.

Gasping for breath, Morkoth weakly rose just enough to look at her. He could think of nothing to say, his mind reeling.

Even though his focus was sharp and isolated, he still heard the running footsteps.

"What the fu-," Nûrzgrat bellowed as he came running up. He stopped short when he found them. Eyes flaring wide, mouth dropping open, he quickly looked away. Why such a sight should embarrass him, he had no idea. "I... sorry. Heard... Thought you were being attacked."

"Go away," Morkoth growled. Sandy giggled nervously.

Without a word, Nûrzgrat stomped back to camp, a troubled expression on his face.


	27. Song for My Returning

**Song for My Returning**

Brianna hadn't the sharp hearing of the Uruk-hai, so she had no idea why Nûrzgrat suddenly got up and bolted away. Razkaar and Thakûf were huddled in sleep nearby, the runt contented now that 'his Sandy' had returned safely. Glancing up at Frûmâdûrz, she contemplated being nervous, but found she was just too damn tired to care that she was more or less alone with him.

"Sounds like someone's getting their ass kicked," Frû commented with little interest. He poked at the small fire he'd built. Though their guard was down, they were still at least wary enough not to build a huge bonfire.

"I can't hear a thing," Brianna replied. Frû snorted.

"Whiteskins never hear anything," he said. "There've been times I was right up their ass and gone before they even knew they were dead."

"How proud you must be," she said sarcastically.

Nûrzgrat slowly returned, lost in apparently disturbing thoughts. He barely acknowledge them as he continued walking across the camp and disappeared into the gloom on the opposite side.

Frowning, Brianna exchanged a bewildered look with Frûmâdûrz, then got up and followed the leader.

"Nûrzgrat?" she called hesitantly. He halted, a darker shadow in the dimness. "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer for several moments. Brianna stood next to him and looked out toward the east, where his eyes were fixed.

"They're mating," he said, his voice hollow.

She had to admit a little shock over that revelation, but not much. After all, it wasn't like there hadn't been warning signs. And with such a high-stress situation as they had endured that day... Not really a surprise.

"I thought that was what you wanted them to do," she replied.

"It was. Is." He bowed his head.

"Are you jealous?"

He glanced sharply at her for a moment. "I wouldn't turn my nose up at either one of you, if you offered it to me. But no," he snarled. "I ain't jealous. Just... remembering."

"What do you remember?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Back in the old days, there weren't many of us. Sharkû wasn't too particular about who got to breed. I... got to. Once."

"Breed?" Brianna said uncertainly. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like what he had to say.

He grunted a humorless laugh. "Where do you think we came from? Sharkû had females from Dunland, Rohan, probably Gondor... I don't know where else. First couple litters of us were made by these big mountain orcs he got from up north or somewhere. You think Morkoth and Ghru are huge, you shoulda seen those bastards."

"They... raped those women, didn't they?"

"Course they did!" he replied. "You think females from those places would ever look at something like us and want to spread their legs? _Gah_, what a joke." Snorting, he said, "Sharkû didn't keep'em around long. They kept trying to run off with the females. Didn't wanna be kept in cages, either. He didn't have the kind of control over them he had with us."

Brianna felt like she would be sick at any moment, but fought it down. Something was bothering the Uruk, and she would have to tough it out until he got to the point, no matter how disgusting the journey was.

Sneering at the thought, he continued, "No, Sharkû's brood don't ask questions. We don't ask permission. Sharkû says 'fuck that woman,' the only thing we ask is 'how many times you want her fucked, sir?' When I was two or three summers outta the ground, I forget when exactly, he said it was my turn, and sent me down." He winced at the memory. As if realizing who he was telling, he felt shame, and couldn't look at her. "I was young. Just a stupid boy. Full of piss and vinegar. Didn't know what I could do. He never let me in there again."

"Did you hurt her badly?" she whispered.

"I _killed_ her, Brianna," he said, and a sob tore from his throat. He immediately clamped down on such a repellent sign of weakness. Gritting his teeth, he snarled, "I learned the hard way, that's certain. Delicate, you whiteskin females. Skin ain't tough like our hide, can't take a pounding worth a damn, scream like pigs gettin' slaughtered..." His voice shook slightly, and he grimaced, clearly disgusted with himself, even after all these years. "Don't find me a mate, woman. Don't wish that on anyone."

She watched his jaw grind with the effort to keep his emotions contained. She wanted to be angry with him, but it just wasn't there. He seemed just as much a victim as the women he'd abused, or the one he'd killed.

"You may as well know," he went on stiffly, "most of us were used for that. Ghrulagûrz was one of the first really big Uruk-hai bred, so he got sent down a lot, until he couldn't get it up anymore. Don't know what the fuck happened to him. Everything was fine, then all of sudden it wasn't."

"Was he... was this while he was being... used himself?" she asked awkwardly.

"Yeah, but what that's got to do with it, I have no idea," he replied. "Anyway, by the time the other boys came along, Sharkû had a good-sized bunch of wenches on hand, and didn't mind so much if one or two died in the process. Probably saved Nûlkol's ass a few times. You can probably guess how things went with him. Morkoth was another one that got picked a lot, but I don't know if he ever went down. Knowing him, he said no and got beaten to a pulp for it."

Brianna tried to hide her revulsion as she nodded. "He told Sandy he'd... forced women before. Maybe that's where."

Nûrzgrat arched his brow with surprise. "Huh. Didn't know that. Well, he was never one to brag, so you're probably right. He was just the size Sharkû was looking for. Now, if he could have had Uruk-hai with Morkoth's size and Nûlkol's stupid mean streak, he'd have an unbeatable army. Problem was, he only got that combination a few times, and they usually ended up being berserkers. _Too_ fucking stupid to be anything else."

"You're changing the subject. You walked in on Morkoth and Sandy and it upset you," she reminded him. "Tell me why."

He scowled, but still couldn't look at her. "Who's gonna teach me not to kill my mate, eh? Who's gonna be standing there, reminding me that I gotta be gentle or she'll break? What female is gonna have the balls to stop me?" Glaring at her, he said, "I'll tell you. Nobody. Not anyone, anywhere. So don't waste your time lookin'."

"I refuse to believe that in this entire world, only Sandy and I are capable of seeing past appearances."

"It ain't just what we look like, woman, though that's fucking awful enough," he growled. "It's how we are made, how we are used. We don't get second chances. I once knew a _snaga_ who was more than eight hundred years old. You know how he got to that age? He didn't fucking die. When he wasn't out with an army somewhere, he was hiding in the mountains. He didn't walk around, minding his own affairs out in the world, because whiteskins would be at his throat if they saw him. Just cause of what he was." Snorting, he said, "Morkoth's always been interested in men's ways. I've talked to _snaga_ about theirs. We are like squalling younglings compared to them. And we'd be the last ones to admit it."

Sighing with exasperation, Brianna shook her head. "You keep drifting off the subject. Nûrzgrat, do you _need_ to be with someone? You saw something of what Morkoth has; do you _want_ that?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. After a few moments, he nodded.

"Then I'll help you." She gripped his shoulder. "If you can see your mistakes, and recognize them _as_ mistakes, you're less likely to make them again."

"Forgive me if I don't get excited about it," he grumbled, shaking his head. "I don't know why you want to get _me_ someone to fuck..."

"That is _not_ what I'm doing for you, Nûrzgrat," Brianna said sternly. "If you want a... mate, there's a lot more to it than sex. I have a feeling it will be the hardest work you've ever done in your life."

"It don't look like Morkoth's breaking a sweat," Nûrzgrat pointed out.

"Not that kind of work," she said, smiling a little. "You saw how he was when she was gone. He felt like a piece of him was torn out. That's what it feels like to love someone, then lose them. The reason why things are taking so long for the pitter-patter of little orc feet to come along is because it's _work_ to reach that point."

Nûrzgrat suddenly perked up, as if remembering what he saw and what it meant. "He just... so she's... Morgoth's balls! Ha ha!" He clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "About fucking time. There's hope for us after all."

"Um, settle down, Nûrzgrat, don't celebrate just yet," Brianna admonished lightly. "There's no guarantee that one time will do it. It may take months of... attempts."

The Uruk's face fell, and he deflated like a punctured balloon. Scowling, he growled, "Fuck."

"Nûrzgrat," she said quietly, "is he near? Can you... can you tell?"

He didn't need to be told who she was talking about. Pitching his nose up, he inhaled deeply, eyes closed in concentration. He'd spent more than twenty years in Ghrulagûrz's company, trained him for war, lied for him, sometimes killed for him when things got out of hand in the pits... He knew the boy's scent as well as he knew his own.

"Aye," he said, pinpointing the faint scent trail, gauging the distance and direction. "Ain't far off."

"Do you think he heard us?"

"Nah, too far for that," he said, shaking his head. "You sit out here long enough, he'll probably come to you, though. Especially if he thinks Nûlkol's still around." Looking away uncomfortably, Nûrzgrat said quietly, "That shit happens in the pits, you know. Some get out of it, some don't. He... never took it well. I don't mean he should have liked it. I mean... he should have killed the first one that did it to him. They would've left him alone after that. It's what the rest of us had to do."

"The _rest_ of you?" she asked incredulously.

Nûrzgrat shrugged and nodded. "We've all been forced at least once, except the younglings, of course. Problem with Ghrulagûrz was he couldn't believe it happened to him, you know? Thought he was untouchable, big beast like him. Well, you don't kill the first one, and everybody else just piles on. Then Sharkû got tired of his whining and made it a sport. I tried to help. I told him he needed to just fucking kill the next one that tried it. So he did. It didn't work out so well."

"What happened?"

"It was way too late by then. They stopped doing it one at a time. If they didn't have a gang of at least four, they didn't try, but when they did, he got done up real bad."

Brianna shuddered with revulsion, hugging herself, hoping her dinner wasn't about to make an appearance. "Oh god," she breathed, wincing. "How could he face that? Every day?"

"Trust me, he didn't want to," Nûrzgrat replied. "Boy's wanted to die for twenty years or more. He just ain't strong enough to do it himself, and can't seem to ask someone else for it. If he'd ever asked _me_, he wouldn't have to ask twice. But he never has."

"If he had, I would never have met him," she said.

Nûrzgrat snorted. "Well, you wait long enough, like I said, he'll come to you." Looking around, he listened for a moment, tested the air with a few sniffs. "I don't think you got anything to worry about. Things are quiet finally. Think I'll go turn in."

"Thank you, Nûrzgrat."

He paused as he turned back toward camp, and glanced at her. "I should be thankin' you. We didn't have an easy time of it."

"It feels better, talking about it, doesn't it?"

Nodding, he headed toward the flickering firelight.

Brianna hugged herself and stared into the shadows around her. It was the first time she'd been completely alone since arriving in this place, the first time she hadn't felt terrified of what might happen to her. Had she really only killed Nûlkol that morning? So much had happened, and Ghru had missed all of it.

No, not all, she acknowledged with a shiver. He was in pain, out there alone. He didn't know that the one who caused his pain was dead and couldn't hurt him ever again.

"Ghru?" she called tentatively. "Please come back."

There was no sound, not even crickets. Whatever oppressive storm was heading their way, blotting out the moon and the stars, seemed to have silenced all life in its path. She slowly walked further out. "Ghru?"

Nothing. She began to wonder if Nûrzgrat's nose had lied to him. But then, Ghru could be quiet when he wanted to, and he was likely better at hiding than anyone. He'd had twenty years to get really good at it.

Her heart ached, remembering how she'd felt back then, how she'd closed herself into a tight ball and tried to shut out the world. There were people who cared about her, though. Friends, family. The police and doctors had been so kind. Unlike some women she spoke with afterwards, there hadn't been any hint of accusation, not a single murmur of admonishment for what she was wearing, or where and when she chose to walk. The aftermath had been... a relief. A comfort. She was able to gather her strength and move on.

"Oh, Ghru," she whispered, tears falling unchecked. He had none of that. He had ridicule. He had relentless repetition, until he lost all hope, and nearly the will to live.

If she couldn't talk with him, she realized, perhaps she could sing for him. Maybe he'd be comforted, even drawn out, by the sound of her voice. She'd once stilled his nightmares by singing, after all.

Her own longing for him made her choice of song for her, and she began to sing, though her voice trembled with sorrow.

_I don't have plans and schemes,  
>And I don't have hopes and dreams.<br>I don't have anything  
>Since I don't have you.<em>

She kept walking in the general direction Nûrzgrat was looking when he picked up Ghru's scent. It was so dark, her footsteps were unsure. Not even a breath of wind stirred the tall grass. A sob tore at her ragged throat as she sang, but she kept on.

_When you walked out on me,  
>In walked old misery,<br>And he's been here since then._

Away off to her left, she thought she saw movement, and halted. _Let it be him_, she thought desperately. Taking a deep breath and raising her voice a little more, she finished the song. She could just make out the low growl of his breathing, for he was not very far away. Focusing on the all-too familiar dark form slowly approaching, Brianna said, "Come back to me, Ghru. Please."

It was difficult to see him, this far from the fire, but she could tell by the way he moved that he was in pain, perhaps physical as well as emotional. He halted a few yards away.

"You should not be out here alone," he said gruffly. "It is... too tempting."

"I'm not afraid of you," she said.

He bowed his head and looked away. "You should be."

"I think I understand why you... why you bit me," she said, taking a few steps closer. To her dismay, he backed up just as many steps.

"I wanted you," he said tightly. "I am an orc, a filthy, stinking orc, and I wanted to fuck you." She winced not only at his words, but his tone. There wasn't anyone in this world who hated Ghrulagûrz more than he did. "It is what orcs _do_. It is _all_ we do. We eat, sleep, shit, rape, and torment. That is all we do. We cannot do anything else. None of us can."

"Morkoth doesn't do that," she said as calmly as she could. "He's in Sandy's arms right now."

"He is no orc," Ghru spat furiously. "He came later, when our blood was fouled by whiteskins. He wants to _be_ a whiteskin. He can tear his skin off, cut off his claws, grind down his teeth, but he will always be _this_. It is all we can be. All we can ever be." His voice choked off, and he nearly gagged forcing himself to continue. "You will open your eyes one day, and you will see. You will look at me and you will finally scream and run, like you should have done from the first. And I will die that day, as _I_ should have done... long ago."

"Ghru, it's over," she said. "Nûlkol's... gone."

He was silent for a long time. "He will return," Ghru said hollowly. "He will want... You should not be here where he can find you. He will forget his promise."

She almost corrected him, realizing he didn't grasp what she meant, but his words were confusing.

"What do you mean? What promise?"

"He is impatient," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "He promised he would leave you alone if... if I served him."

"Oh my god," Brianna slowly hissed, covering her mouth with her hand. Her stomach roiled. "Then I am glad. I am _so_ glad I killed him."

"...What?"

"He's dead, Ghru. He bragged about what he did to you, and I... lost my head. Nobody was going to do anything about it. I couldn't... I just couldn't let him do it again."

"He is... dead," Ghru said hesitantly, unsure of what he heard. "You killed him."

"Yes," she said. "You taught me to throw, remember?"

"You used my knives?"

"Yes."

"You did this... why?"

"Because I care about you." Her arms itched to embrace him, yet he still kept his distance. "Because there would never be peace for anyone if he kept on. You should see everyone now. Everyone's relaxed." Laughing nervously, she added, "Sandy and Morkoth are even mating in the bushes."

Even in the dark, she could see his startled jerk.

"What has happened?" he asked.

"It's been a very long day," Brianna said wearily, rubbing her eyes. "I killed Nûlkol, then I ran for it. I thought the others... I did it right in front of them. Frûmâdûrz was very angry with me. That's when I ran into about a hundred men on horses."

"What?" he roared. Now he did approach swiftly, and stood only a few feet from her. Swallowing hard, her fists clenching as she restrained her desire to touch him, she continued.

"Sandy came after me. We probably could have talked our way out of it, if Morkoth hadn't shown up." She could just make out Ghru's face, the worry and astonishment etched into his features. "As you can imagine, all hell broke loose. Someone shot Morkoth, and I had to drag him away while Sandy held them off."

"'Held them off'? What do you mean?"

"She put one of the men in a chokehold and held a sword to his throat," Brianna replied. "We had enough time to warn everyone and get the hell out."

As she described the rest of the eventful day, she paid as close attention to Ghru's expressions as she could in the darkness. Eventually, she brought him up to date, and ground to a halt. He wasn't looking at her.

"I have... missed a lot," he finally said. "You killed him for me."

"For you... maybe for _all_ of us," she said. "His presence was more oppressive than this storm... thing. Whatever it is." Sighing, she shook her head. "I don't _do_ things like that, Ghru. I'm not a soldier. I'm not strong like Sandy."

"If you are willing to endure me, you are strong," he assured her.

"I _don't_ 'endure' you," she said firmly. "I _accept_ you. Now, please come back. It's cold, and I... I miss you."

"I will keep you warm, if that is what you want."

"That is what I want."

When they lay together by the fire that night, Brianna faced him, held him close to her, and listened to his heartbeat until she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Song lyric: "Since I Don't Have You" by the Skyliners<p> 


	28. Eat Your Heart Out, Margaret Mead

**Eat Your Heart Out, Margaret Mead**

Merol poked at the small fire, keeping the coals alive while he waited for his partner. He had no stomach for meat. Perhaps wouldn't for some time to come.

Hearing footsteps approaching, the Rohirrim stood, putting his hand to his sword. Sighing with relief, he sat back down. "What kept you?" he asked.

"I shall not sleep easily again," Haelm grumped. "The things I've heard..."

"Hmph," Merol snorted. "Spare me your sniveling. You cannot have heard what assaulted _my_ ears this night." He shuddered.

"Do tell me," Haelm snapped. "I had to listen to repulsive descriptions of what fate has befallen the women that have gone missing in the Westfold these many years."

Merol looked sharply at him. "What do you mean?"

"They were used by that wretched wizard to breed his abominations," Haelm snarled, and spat on the ground.

Wincing, Merol shook his head. "I almost pitied that woman. Wulfric was mad to abuse her so. If Theoden King ever learns of his deed, he will be justified in slaying the man. I almost took the orcs' side. They spoke my own heart in this matter. Then I heard them rutting in the grass."

Haelm dropped heavily to the ground, staring at his partner. "Are you certain?"

"It is beastly dark with this storm coming in, but my ears are not yet dulled to uselessness. They lay together and embraced. Bad enough, and nearly caused my stomach to empty. Then she bade him... remove his clothing."

"_She_ did?"

"Aye. She_ instructed_ him in how to please her. I could not move, could not leave, or they would hear me, for I had ventured too close. It wasn't until...," he faltered, a blush heating his face. Swallowing, he pressed on, "It wasn't until they were well satisfied that I was able to take my leave. Between the two of them, the dead may have been woken."

"Béma," Haelm breathed. He, too, felt his gorge rise.

"Rid me of such memories," Merol begged, rubbing his eyes though the darkness had shielded them from such a sight. "Tell me what you heard."

"You must judge whether your ears or mine were cursed the more," Haelm replied. "The leader who challenged Wulfric, the one called Nûrzgrat, left the camp with a troubled countenance. The frail woman, Brianna, followed."

"Troubled, indeed," Merol snorted. "The fool believed them under attack and witnessed their foul coupling."

"He told her... many things. I know they are orcs, Merol, but it seemed to me... He seemed... regretful... of what he had done."

"What did he do?"

"To begin with, he informed her that Saruman had collected many women from Rohan, among other places. They were... used to breed these great orcs." He shuddered at the thought of Rohan's shieldmaidens being used for such a purpose. "This Nûrzgrat was too rough and slew one he was ordered to... I swear to you, Merol, on my dying breath, he sounded almost as though he might have wept for it."

"Orcs do not weep, Haelm," Merol said sternly.

"You are right, of course. Much was spoken. I was shocked that Brianna did not flee from him, so... horrid were his revelations. In fact, she has pledged herself to find him a 'mate,' as though his past deeds have no meaning. He did not seek to commit such vile acts upon her, either, though they were alone, far from the others." Bowing his head, Haelm shuddered. "I confess, though orcs are, perhaps, the most wicked and vile creatures ever born, it seemed to me that the wizard was worse. The things he made them do... the way he used them... It is no wonder they are wicked."

Merol frowned, staring into the small flame. They dared not light a larger, warmer fire, so close to their quarry. Wulfric wanted them to shadow the orcs, after all; not engage them. Unless, of course, they showed signs of mischief. Did lying with that flame-haired woman constitute mischief? He wasn't sure now.

"I confess also," Merol finally replied slowly, "that... in the darkness, where I could not see that Morkoth creature, I sometimes... forgot what he was. His words to her were... He asked over and over again if he was hurting her."

"Was he?"

"No," Merol said, then chuckled uncomfortably. "The poor bastard had never heard a woman's pleasure before. I might have been privy to a retelling of my own first encounter had I not known what she lay with."

Haelm's eyebrows shot up. Merol glanced at him.

"There is more," Haelm said quietly. "A sixth has returned to them."

"Another one? Where has the cursed beast been?"

"Hiding," Haelm replied. "If I understood what was said, I do not blame him for it. She... called to him. Sang for him, until he came back."

"Why would he hide? What did you hear?" Merol asked.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Haelm said, "He was abused. Apparently by the one we found dead at their other camp."

"Abused? You mean beaten?"

"No," he replied, fixing Merol with a piercing look. "I mean _abused_. It would seem he has oft been put to such... use."

"Foul beasts," Merol hissed, but Haelm shook his head.

"I do not believe he was willing. There is yet more." His brow furrowed, and he was glad Merol did not urge him to speak. How could _anyone_...? Yet, he sympathized. Were it for his wife, he would do the same. "The dead one must have threatened Brianna. This orc... agreed to 'serve' in her place. It was her hand that slew the other."

Merol was struck speechless for several minutes. Haelm didn't seem inclined to speak anymore either. The two men mulled over the things they'd heard, each lost in troubled thought and disturbing memory.


	29. The Boy Gets The Talk

A/N: This one's for you, CreepingBoNE. You'll know when it comes. ;)

* * *

><p><strong>The Boy Gets "The Talk"<strong>

_March 3, 3019 – Gollum pays a secret visit to Shelob; Sauron's forces launch a two-pronged attack on Rohan and Lórien; Aragorn and company cross into Lebennin_

Nûrzgrat was furious as he marched Ghrulagûrz away from camp, a firm grip on the Uruk's elbow. He could still hear Brianna's weeping and Sandy's indignant remarks. Once out of earshot, he rounded on the taller Uruk and released him.

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you, boy?" Nûrzgrat roared. "Giving her to _Frûmâdûrz_? You think you got the _right_?"

"Morkoth will have none but Sandy, and you refuse both," Ghrulagûrz snarled. "And _no_, I do not have _any_ right."

"You stupid boy," Nûrzgrat barked. "She don't want _him_! You got a female that wants _you_. Don't fuck it up! She could've gone with those whiteskins, could have betrayed us all, but she didn't. You give her to Frû and she just might change her mind."

"She would be better off," Ghrulagûrz growled. "He will fuck her and be done. You will have your whelp."

Exasperated, Nûrzgrat fought hard not to punch the Uruk in the face. "I want _peace_, boy. If that means you do what you gotta do to keep that woman happy, that's what it means. You think 'cause Nûlkol's dead I won't chain you to her?"

Ghrulagûrz winced at the mention of the dead Uruk's name. "I am not... how can I... I could not protect _myself_. I cannot fuck her, even if she asks me to. I am no use to her."

"Boy," Nûrzgrat said evenly, "I ain't good at reading these whiteskins. That's Morkoth's job. But some things hit you in the fucking face and you pay attention." Glaring at Ghrulagûrz, he snarled, "That woman _wept_ for you. She asked many times if you were following. She watched for you as much as Morkoth did for Sandy. When she went to face those men, she told us to keep you hidden if you came near."

"She killed Nûlkol," Ghrulagûrz snapped bitterly. "She does not need my protection anymore."

Nûrzgrat narrowed his eyes, then spat on the ground. "This is _pride_, is it? She did what you could not, so you cast her aside?"

Ghrulagûrz winced, and muttered under his breath.

"Speak up, boy!" Nûrzgrat roared, thumping Ghrulagûrz's shoulder.

"You told me not to!" Ghrulagûrz bellowed.

"Since when did _any_ of you lot listen to a fucking word I say?"

"You are my _leader_," Ghrulagûrz snarled. "My elder. My chief. Your word is _law_."

His words brought Nûrzgrat up short, and he sighed. "All right. I owe you for that. I shoulda listened to you, and I didn't. I thought... I thought he'd calm, when we stopped hearing Sharkû's Voice. All the rest of us did. Even you."

"I am still an orc," Ghrulagûrz snarled. "I want... I look at her, and I want..." His voice broke, and he roughly rubbed his face.

"Aye," Nûrzgrat said, nodding. "If you didn't, you'd be dead." Snorting with grim amusement, he said, "Raz probably does, too, he just don't know what it means yet."

"I have caused pain," Ghrulagûrz growled. "I have... hurt females, and I have _enjoyed_ it. I have fucked females hard enough to make them bleed, and... _enjoyed_ it."

"You think Frûmâdûrz won't do that?" Nûrzgrat asked, arching his brow. "You think... you think if Thakûf got a hold of her, he wouldn't do worse? Couple minutes with either one of them, she won't mind a nip from you every now and then. Boy, you won't hurt her 'cause you give a shit about her. We would not be having this conversation if you didn't."

Ghrulagûrz looked away. It was true; he cared. He cared so much his heart hurt. "I would not see her harmed."

"Well, you throw her away for Frû to pick up, and you may as well kill her yourself." Nûrzgrat cast about. This was not a discussion he was accustomed to having. "She claimed you, you know. When she killed Nûlkol. She said you belonged to her. That don't seem to me like she don't need you. Or want you. She won't have Frûmâdûrz, I promise you that. Now how about you get your shit together and go back. Tell her you're sorry or some shit; I'll deal with Frû. He's probably wetting himself."

Ghrulagûrz grunted a rare laugh. "She should have better than me."

"Hmph. Can't argue with that. But they both stayed, when they could have left. Right convenient, those whiteskins showing up. Proved one thing: woman wants a good fuck, she don't need to go no further than this." He grabbed his crotch and leered. As he hoped, Ghrulagûrz laughed a bit more easily. "Now get your ass back. Your woman's waiting."

* * *

><p>When Ghrulagûrz and Nûrzgrat returned to camp, Sandy was standing over a groaning Frûmâdûrz curled up in a ball on the ground, hands clamped between his legs. Her arms were crossed, her mouth set in a firm line. Morkoth was flat on his back, laughing so hard he couldn't sit up. Thakûf was also chuckling. Razkaar had decided before now that anything Sandy did was justified, and laughed as well. Only Brianna wasn't overcome with mirth. She was hugging herself and shaking. Ghrulagûrz scowled.<p>

Sighing, Nûrzgrat rolled his eyes. "I can't leave for five fucking minutes without one'a you boys gettin' in trouble with the women. Frû, keep it in your pants, you ain't gettin' a female if I got anything to say about it." Pointing an authoritative finger at Brianna, he snarled, "You go talk to this stupid boy." Turning to Ghrulagûrz, he said, "Fix it. And I better not hear any more bitchin' outta you."

"After what she did for you," Sandy hissed at Ghrulagûrz. "You have some fucking gall."

"That's enough, woman," Nûrzgrat barked. "I told him what a piece of shit he was. Don't need you tellin' him again."

"Yeah? Well, maybe it'll take a couple more times before it sinks in," she snapped. "A thicker skull I've _never_ seen."

"Sandy, please," Brianna said, standing up. "I would like to speak with you alone, Ghru."

He nodded and followed her away from camp once more. At least when he received a dressing down, it was done away from the others. Though how he could possibly be humiliated more than he already was, he had no idea.

"Sit down," Brianna said when she felt they had gone far enough. Ghrulagûrz lowered himself to the ground. He still felt pain, and shifted uncomfortably for a moment. Brianna sat cross-legged in front of him.

She waited for several moments, watching him avoid her eyes. "I know you're hurting, Ghru," she finally said. "It's probably hard to accept that no one's going to hurt you anymore."

"Do you want me?" he asked abruptly.

Startled, Brianna couldn't answer for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. "Yes. I do."

"And... do you... need me?"

"Very much."

"Then... I am yours."

"You aren't... property, Ghru," Brianna said. "You don't have to belong to someone. Or _serve_ someone."

"Nûrzgrat said you claimed me," he said, brow furrowing.

Looking away uncomfortably, she replied, "I wasn't thinking clearly. Even if I was, I didn't mean I _owned_ you, like a slave or something. I meant... I care about you. It's... hard to explain." She shrugged lamely.

"I care for you, too," Ghrulagûrz said quietly.

"I'm glad," she said, smiling. She held out her hand to him. He hesitantly took it, mindful not to squeeze too hard.

"I want to... give... like Morkoth... but...," he said brokenly.

"You aren't Morkoth," Brie replied. "You don't have to _be_ Morkoth."

"If I am not, I will hurt you," he said. "I will make you weep."

"Ghru," she said carefully, "things have happened to you that have not happened to Morkoth. You can _never_ be like him."

Wincing, Ghrulagûrz looked away.

"Listen to me," she insisted. "You are Ghrulagûrz. You have lived Ghrulagûrz's life. You have felt Ghrulagûrz's pain. I don't _want_ Morkoth. I want Ghrulagûrz, with everything that makes him... _him_."

"But... I am broken," he said. "I cannot..."

She shook her head. "Time, Ghru. You need time." Giggling slightly, she beamed at him. "This isn't a race. Just because Sandy and Morkoth can't keep their hands off each other, doesn't mean we have to rush."

"Would you even _want_ to fuck me?" he growled bitterly.

Brianna pursed her lips. "I don't _fuck_."

He nodded. "As I thought. It is... good that I am broken, then."

"No, you don't understand," Brie said, and couldn't help laughing a little. "I _mean_, when I think of... fucking, there's no... meaning to it. No feelings. I may as well be having sex with Frûmâdûrz, for god's sake."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Then... what... I don't understand."

Squeezing his hand, she said, "We call it lovemaking, Ghru. Making love. That's what Sandy is doing with Morkoth. I suppose Nûrzgrat has been calling it 'mating,' though that sounds almost as shallow as fucking to me."

"So... would you make love with me?" he asked.

A flutter soared through her insides at his words, and she blushed. He raised an eyebrow. "Now?" she whispered.

His face crumbled. "Ever."

"I'm sorry, it's just... I liked hearing that from you," she said shyly.

"They are only words."

"They are _important_ words. And I like to hear them."

"How is... making love different from fucking?"

"Well," she sighed, "lots of ways. There's caring and affection. You try to please one another. It can last... oh, hours, if you want it to. Or minutes." She shrugged. "The point is, it means something."

"Hours?" he breathed, incredulous. "But... I come, and I stop. Why hours?"

"If you _want_, it can go on for a long time, but it's not all... _that_ part."

"What else, then?"

Brianna was beginning to feel a little aroused by the discussion. "There's... kissing. Touching. Other things."

"Is there... biting?" he asked, eyes fixed on the ground between them.

She bristled slightly, but pushed it aside. She remembered Nûrzgrat's explanation, and forced herself to relax. "If... such things are... _accepted_, then yes, there... can be biting. But I want you to try kissing. See how you like that before... I... accept... biting."

"Does it feel good?"

"_I _think so," Brianna replied, smiling wanly.

"Will you... let me try it?"

Nervous, Brianna nodded. She released his hand, then reached up to cup his face. He trembled uncertainly as she guided him to her. It was what she'd wanted to do for some time, but could not bring herself to manage. When their lips touched, she felt weak, and held on to him for dear life. She felt his hands close on her wrists, clinging just as fiercely. He responded to her hungrily, if awkwardly. He began to growl, deep in his chest.

Abruptly, Ghrulagûrz broke away, and looked down with shock. Blinking, he met Brianna's eyes. She smiled gently.

"Just let it be. Don't rush it."

"But..."

"Ssshhh." She pressed her finger gently to his lips. "Don't force it, either."

"That... kissing... it felt good," he said, casting a relieved look at the obvious signs of his arousal.

"I thought you might like it."


	30. Plotting and Scheming

**Plotting and Scheming**

"Stupid fucker," Nûrzgrat grumbled as Frûmâdûrz picked himself off the ground.

"He handed her over!" Frû snapped, gesturing at Ghrulagûrz's retreating back. "I am _not_ turning down a fuck when it's offered!"

"You were mad to think you would get her," Morkoth laughed. Standing, he went to Sandy and slipped his arm possessively about her waist. "Men do not share their mates with others."

"Aye, and _snaga_ don't either," Nûrzgrat said.

"We ain't men _or_ _snaga_," Frû growled.

"Yeah, but you're a _dick_," Sandy pointed out. "You ever grab _my_ tits, I'll kill you."

"You let _him_ do it," the Uruk countered, pointing. Morkoth grinned.

"He _asks_ first," she snapped. "And how did _you_ know?"

Frû smirked. "I didn't."

"Asshole."

"Don't you make Sandy mad," Razkaar warned, his fists clenched at his sides. Everyone turned to stare at him in disbelief. Frûmâdûrz burst out laughing.

"What is _this_?" he cried. "The runt thinks he's your _protector_ now?"

"You make her mad, and she will kill you," Razkaar said, trembling under the baleful glare of the larger Uruk. "Like Brianna. And then she will go away. She will find men again and go away."

Sandy could only stare at the little Uruk in shock. "Raz... I didn't go away because I wanted to." She glanced at Nûrzgrat for help, but the leader was even more dumbfounded than she. "And Brianna didn't kill Nûlkol just because she got a little mad." She approached Razkaar and put her hands on his shoulders so he'd look at her. "I'm not going anywhere. Neither is Brianna. And I won't kill Frû, even though he asks for it every time he opens his mouth." She shot an angry look at him, then turned back to Raz. "Every family has at least one member who embarrasses them at every get-together. Frûmâdûrz is just... fulfilling that age-old tradition."

"I _think_ I'm being insulted," Frû muttered.

"Of course you are," Sandy said lightly, releasing Razkaar and giving Frû a withering look. "Get used to it. Morkoth, let's go somewhere else. The playground's too crowded."

Chuckling, Morkoth smirked at Frûmâdûrz and followed where she led.

"Like a cock, he struts, do you see that?" Frû grumbled once he was sure the huge Uruk was too far away to hear.

"Heh, I'd say he's got good reason to strut, you dumb fuck." Nurzgrat laughed. "Good boy," he commented to Raz, ruffling the runt's matted hair. "Make an Uruk outta you yet." Razkaar beamed up at him.

"I'd chase her into the bushes too, if she beckoned," Frû snapped. "Chase her there if she _didn't_. What has become of us? We must ask _permission_ to take what we want? We must _beg_ for a fuck?"

"That's right," the leader said, losing interest in the ranting very quickly. Give the boy an inch, he'd go for leagues. "And I'll hear no more of it."

Frû sidled up to Nûrzgrat, ignoring the warning growl as he did so. "What about those villages, eh? The ones the whiteskins talked of. Couple miles from where we were, probably not too far from where we are now. You want a female of your own, right? We go there, likely plenty to choose from. All the men gone off to war. Plunder as well. We lack good weapons, decent food, blankets... other comforts..."

Nûrzgrat angrily elbowed Frû aside and stomped away. He knew what the little ball sack was doing. It took Frû awhile, what with all the things they'd been through since Isengard, maybe longer than Nûrzgrat expected. It seemed that the piece of shit was back to his old games now, though.

What pissed the leader off the most was that it made sense. The little shit _always_ made sense. Nûrzgrat was tempted. It was a reasonable argument, in part. They _didn't_ have many weapons, they _didn't_ have blankets or decent food, he _did_ want a mate... Wincing, he bowed his head. Not that way, he didn't. Not anymore. Not since the women showed up. Things were different now. This wasn't about spreading terror across the Westfold or weakening the opposition. This was about the Uruk-hai as _he_ saw them. As they should have been. There was no room in this world for the Uruk-hai _Sharkû_ made. Perhaps there could be room for Nûrzgrat's Uruk-hai.

"I'll give you a head start, Frû," he growled. "You aim for them villages, I'll be nice and give you a minute or two's lead. Then I'm comin' after you. And I ain't just gonna pound you into the earth. I've lost one. I'm feelin' reckless. Probably won't hurt much if I lose another."

Frûmâdûrz stiffened. "You sayin' I'm not worth anything to you? I'm not something you want making whelps for you? I ain't as good as that _kruf shara-obu_ or the _ghrumatûrz_?" [whore of men; dead penis]

"That's what I'm sayin'." Turning, he fixed Frûmâdûrz with a glowering stare. "Up to you. Stay and follow my rules, or go, and I'll kill you. I ain't having you running ahead of us, causin' trouble so they're waitin' in ambush when we get there. And don't think you can sneak off. I'll be keeping a close watch on you. I got a feeling Morkoth and Ghru'll be just as interested in your comings and goings from here on out. So mind yourself."

"What good am I to you, then?" Frû snarled.

"Fuck all, at the moment," Nûrzgrat replied.

"Maybe I oughta..."

"Maybe you oughta shut your fucking mouth and use that head of yours," Nûrzgrat barked, punching the Uruk in the chest with a finger. "It ain't like it was. Those days are _over_, boy. Do you think we woulda stood a chance with those whiteskins on our own?"

"Oh, _this_ is good," Frûmâdûrz sneered. "You cut off our sword arms with your ideas, and now you cut off our _balls_? We hide behind _females_ now?"

Nûrzgrat slapped the offensive Uruk across the face hard enough to stagger him. "Not just _any_ females, you fuck-wit! They're _our_ females. They defend us _all_, not just their mates. Did you have your fucking ears plugged when the whiteskins were there? Sandy got herself beaten _by her own kind_ cause she wouldn't betray us. Brianna, wisp that she is, went out there to face twenty men without so much as a sharp stick to save _us_. Gettin' it now? You go around rapin' and pillagin' like _Sharkû_ wanted us to do, and whiteskins'll hunt your ass down. Those women won't speak up for you then, I promise you. Probably kill you themselves before the whiteskins ever find you. Sinkin' in?"

"If we let _them_ fight all our battles..."

"They do not fight as we do, you stupid piece of shit," Nûrzgrat growled threateningly. He was getting close to the point where he needed to see blood on his hands before he'd calm down. "If we find _whiteskins_, I'd rather put the swords up and let them do the talking than risk us all gettin' killed."

"_Any_ whiteskins? I doubt those wild ones in Dunland would listen to'em," Frû smirked.

"Nah, them I'd kill just 'cause they were in _Sharkû's_ pocket," the leader said. "Anyone who'd suck that wizard's cock ain't gonna be someone I want as a friend. We were _slaves_, idiot. You can pretty it up all you want, but that's what we were. We ain't slaves no more. You wanna keep doing the shit we did when we were, you can do it on your own if you can run fucking fast enough. _I'll_ hunt your ass down if the whiteskins don't catch wind of you first."

A furious roar followed by a terrified squeal shattered the stillness as Frûmâdûrz tried to think of another argument to make. Both Uruk-hai whirled toward the sound. Nûrzgrat did a quick head count; only Razkaar sat by the fire, twisting his head about, looking for the threat.

"Where the fuck is Thakûf?" the leader cried, beginning to panic. His answer limped into view from around the hill Morkoth and Sandy disappeared behind earlier. The confused Uruk was pressing one hand to his head and holding the front of his unlaced breeches closed with the other. "What's the matter with you, boy?"

"They don't like anybody watching," Thakûf replied, a mystified look on his face.

* * *

><p>Haelm swore vengeance on Merol for making him spy on Brianna. Hearing the unsavory descriptions was bad enough; actually witnessing an intimacy shared between a woman and an orc... Small consolation that it was not similar to the other woman's repulsive acts of the previous night, performed in daylight. Or such daylight as could be had with this encroaching darkness still hovering over them.<p>

He did not think his stomach could hold so much, and yet the evidence otherwise covered the ground.

Shaking from the convulsive attack, the man rubbed his face. He'd almost drawn his bow and shot the one they called Frû... something, to protect the thin woman. Brianna's apparent 'mate' all but tossed her into the other Uruk's arms, claiming she didn't need _him_ any longer, then the leader went mad with rage and dragged the bigger beast off with him for a lecture.

He shrugged, utterly flummoxed. That was what it looked like, anyway. He couldn't hear the words spoken, but he could see the orcs plainly enough, and the whole manner in which the leader spoke to the transgressor, or yelled at, to be more accurate, described a father scolding a young boy who's done a great wrong.

The 'replacement's' tenure with Brianna was terribly short-lived. Leering, he made a grab for the woman, managing to get a handful of her breasts, only to be brought low in a most undignified manner by Sandy. Haelm still winced at the memory. He was at Wulfric's right hand when the blow was delivered then, and he was fairly certain the captain would not be fathering children again. The healer said something about 'split open' and 'dangling,' at which point Haelm had to stop listening.

But then Brianna and that strange-looking orc took off alone, and he was obliged to follow. Would that he had left them to themselves. He shuddered anew, remembering the kiss they shared. What was _wrong_ with these women? He was truly baffled. The one lay not only willingly, but apparently enthusiastically, with an orc, and the other wished to do so as well, by her own words. And the words they used made the seasoned Rider blush; had he tried to woo _his_ wife in such terms, she would have slapped him a hundred times before ever consenting to even hold his hand.

Before long, Merol strode up to their little camp and slumped down, speechless.

"Well?" Haelm asked when his partner didn't say anything for too long.

"I am not certain," he said slowly. Staring into the smoldering coals of their fire, Merol frowned, thinking hard. "I did not follow Sandy and Morkoth. They went off a ways, undoubtedly to... I did not wish to see it."

"Understandable," Haelm snarled. "I, however, had to see that disgusting orc kiss Brianna without shadows to spare my eyes."

"Listen," Merol said, turning to Haelm. "I think... the one called Frû is a danger to the villages south of here. I think I believe that Nûrzgrat fellow now; _he_ will see to it there is no harm done to anyone."

"How can you be sure?" Haelm asked skeptically. "Did he come right out and say, 'I will do them no harm'?"

"Actually, he did, or words to that effect, and threatened to slay Frû if he did not abide his rules," Merol replied. "Regardless, it is Frû who worries me. He spoke of pillaging the settlements for goods they need to survive, and even _I_ could see such arguments were tempting. But the leader seemed to have made up his mind on this score long since, and would not budge."

"Budge about what?"

"He will not allow it!" Merol cried. "It is unthinkable, that an orc would learn of a vulnerable, poorly defended target, full of women and children only, and _pass it by_."

"Aye," Haelm agreed quietly. "He is a strange one, that Nûrzgrat. Did he give a reason why?"

"That he did," the Rider said,"and that is the incredible part. Because they are no longer slaves, he said." Sighing, Merol continued, "You were right. The true evil was Saruman. He used them in the most vile manner imaginable, committed the blackest deeds of any age in their making, but... I am seeing something in them that perhaps the wizard did not intend. They are rough, vicious, and reprehensible, to be sure, but... I think..."

Haelm leaned forward, tilting his head to the side. "What do you think?"

"I think at least the leader can be... trusted." He frowned, for even the thought of such a word in association with an orc should have burned his mind.


	31. What We Once Were

A/N: Got a shout-out to you, James P. Darcy. Keep your eyes open. :)

* * *

><p><strong>What We Once Were<strong>

"Good grief, that was a bit excessive, don't you think?" Sandy admonished, leaning back on her elbows in the grass and crossing her ankles. Morkoth still quivered with rage, and stood naked with his fierce glare fixed in the direction in which Thakûf could still be seen staggering away. Patting the ground beside her, she said teasingly, "I believe Nûrzgrat would say, 'he don't know no better.' Now come back over here."

The tall Uruk slowly turned, and his brow smoothed somewhat on seeing her. It wasn't Frûmâdûrz, at least. For that he had to be grateful. Still... how long before that one started spying as well? And then when would the rest of it start?

Sitting heavily beside her, his mood gone, he stared sullenly at nothing.

She didn't like the look on his face, or the brooding silence. "Morkoth," she said quietly, "it's not a big deal, really."

"It _is_ a 'big deal,'" he snarled. "You do not understand."

"Tell me, then," she replied. Sitting up, she pressed against him, and he automatically draped his arm about her naked body, pulling her close.

"I have seen it," he growled contemptuously. "On raids. In the breeding pits. With the _globatish_. One takes his pleasure, and others come to feed. Sometimes... sometimes we cannot help ourselves, the need is so strong."

"By 'feed,' do you mean... _eat_, or...," she asked uncertainly.

"We follow," he said, wincing. "If the first is fucking, we come to fuck. If he eats, we come to eat."

"All right," she said uncomfortably, "so orcs are pack animals. I get that."

"I do not want even Razkaar seeing us," he snarled. "He is a youngling, but he is growing. He will be like the rest of us. He can't help it." Furious suddenly, Morkoth pounded his fist into the ground.

Sandy blanched at the idea of Razkaar, who seemed so innocent for an Uruk, turning into something like Nûlkol.

"At least you're not like that," she said, squeezing his waist and snuggling against him.

"I _have_ been," he snapped, pulling away from her. He got up and began dressing. "I will never lie to you, _ghaashkarn_. I fell upon the helpless like everyone else when the need drove me to do it." He yanked the ties closed on his breeches, nearly breaking them. "I fucked females in the breeding pits because I could not control myself. I fucked females on raids when others were already taking them, because I could not _fucking_ control myself. The only thing I _haven't _fucked at one time or another is a _globatish_." Turning toward her, he forced himself to look at her horrified face. "Yes, I said no. I said it a lot. But I lived four years in Isengard under Master's rule, and I could not say no every fucking day. Some days, I did not _want_ to."

Sandy struggled once more against the revulsion his past deeds inspired. With shaking hands, she hastily dressed, not wanting to be in such a vulnerable state with him right now. Standing, she hugged herself protectively.

"Why do you do this to me, Morkoth?" she asked quietly. "You are... so gentle, so tender. I never see anything... scary in your eyes, and believe me, I've seen some pretty scary eyes. I keep falling in and out of love with you, and it's wearing me out."

"I do not deserve... anything from you," he said. "Not your love, not your body, nothing."

"You seem to try damn hard to convince me of it," she snapped. "Why? Why can't you just shut the hell up about the horrible shit you _used_ to do? I didn't know who you were _then_. I know you _now_. Are you telling me that if you see Ghru and Brie kissing, you'll run over, knock his ass out of the way, and rape her?"

"No!" he roared. "I did not rape _you_, even when I held you against me and dreamed of it every night! I will not touch her, no matter _what_ I see them do!"

"Then what is the god damned _problem_?" she shrieked, smacking his chest. "I _understand_ it sucked, I _get_ it. He made you _all_ do the most god-awful things imaginable. I understand that sometimes you've got to talk about it so you can let it go, but _please_ do _not_ tell me how much you loved raping women _right __after__ we've made love_!"

"I did not _love_ it!" he roared. "I did not _like_ it, I did not want to _do_ it!"

"But you _still_ got off on it, didn't you?" she snarled.

He started. "What do you mean?"

"As long as you've brought it up, let's lay it out there," she said sarcastically. "Whether you chose to do it or not, you enjoyed it, didn't you? You liked having your cock up inside a woman, _didn't you_? Maybe you liked it when she struggled a bit, huh? A little bit of fight makes it better, doesn't it?"

"_Yes_!" he roared, then sank to his knees and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook as he struggled not to break down completely. "We are..."

"_No_," she snapped, slapping him across the face. He stared up at her, shocked. "I'm tired of this 'we' shit, too. The Uruk-hai are not a collective or a hive or the Borg or anything like that. You are _Morkoth_, who _happens_ to be an Uruk. Now tell me about _you_. What is it about _you_ that you were going to say?"

Breathing hard, for under normal circumstances, he would likely have responded in kind to a blow from another, he said through clenched teeth, "_I_ am... sorry," he said, deflating and hanging his head. "It is true. All of it. I did not want to like it, but when I was doing it... I finished. I came. The more she fought, the sooner... Fortunate, I suppose."

"I think... that's pretty normal, actually," she said awkwardly. "I mean... your..." She vaguely waved in the general direction of his privates. "Doesn't really care what you think. Anyway, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. It's... sort of not really your fault."

"How is it not my fault?" he asked. "I had a choice."

"Not much of one, by the sound of it," she replied. "Look, there's... defying orders because you have a moral obligation to do so, and then there's... not really knowing that what you're told to do is immoral. I somehow don't think Saruman encouraged you guys to really think about what you were doing. Probably never let you know that what you were doing... might be wrong. Or he made sure you didn't care. I don't know." She sat down in front of him and hugged her knees.

"I can't believe this. I really can't." She chuckled and shook her head. "You know, my world may not have orcs, but we know what they are. We know what they _do_. At least, we _think_ we do. Having philosophical conversations doesn't even come up on the radar. And I've actually had _sex_ with you."

"You are ashamed," he said, looking away.

"No, and that's the weirdest part," she said. "Although I have to admit I'm pretty shameless about a lot of things. It's like I'm in this fairy tale, only the beast isn't in disguise, he's not under some kind of spell that'll break when the girl falls in love with him, and all of a sudden he's a handsome prince. You're not a man in disguise, you're an _orc_. You'll always _be_ an orc. And... I'm okay with that."

"I hate what I was," he said.

"I know you do," she replied. "Now... stop punishing yourself for it. It's over and done with. The amoral cretin who pulled your strings isn't doing it anymore, so you can be who Morkoth wants to be. You can be the Morkoth I fell in love with, the one I want to be with. And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, you can leave Saruman's Morkoth outside the bedroom, because I don't much like him hanging around."

"What bedroom?" he chuckled. "We mate under the sky."

"Then all the world is our bedroom," she murmured, embracing him. "So he'd better go _really_ far away."

* * *

><p>Ghrulagûrz craved Brianna's kiss as he'd once desired the taste of her blood. Unlike those times he sank his teeth into her flesh and satisfied his foul need, the kissing made him hard. It made him <em>able<em> to do something about the desire he'd felt since that first night he held her.

It was a terrifying thought.

He was not like Morkoth, he knew this, and she had said she didn't care. That he was preferred. Did she know what he looked like? Would she grimace and look away from his horridly scarred flesh? He did not bear nearly the number of whip wheals that Morkoth had, but his skin... The fire took so much from him. Ghrulagûrz _felt_ things. What had once been barely discerned now roared through his nerves and assaulted his mind. Her gentle hands upon him... it was the first time _anyone's_ touch had not caused excruciating pain.

When she touched him more than a week ago for the first time, he hadn't expected it, and frightened her with his reaction. She touched him again when he tried to take advantage of the first erection he'd had in _years_ without some repulsive orc using his body against his will, and he panicked. The erection was flagging, until she touched him, and suddenly it was back. He couldn't trust himself, and ran.

It was good he did. In the pool, when her hands caressed his hips, he'd hardened once more, and tore her throat in desperation. He couldn't _think_ when that happened on its own, he was so unaccustomed to it. Always before, when his cock stiffened, there was another's clawed hand on it, there was an Uruk across his back...

Ghrulagûrz shuddered, nearly waking Brianna as she lay in the curve of his body. Looking at her in the dim light of the smoldering campfire, his heart clenched in his chest. He brushed a lock of her hair from her temple with one finger.

Across from him, he could see Morkoth lying flat on his back, snoring softly. Sandy lay at his side, fast asleep. Was that what it was like? They were mates, and while he knew they went off to... make love, as Brianna called it, they were not at it all the time. He wanted Brianna so badly, he didn't think he could go an hour without being inside her. Assuming he could get it up even for one moment.

And assuming she would allow it. He had little confidence that she would, no matter what she said. She had only to look at him. Orcs were hideous creatures; he knew this by the expressions on the faces of men who fought on his Master's side. He knew it from the revulsion plain on his Master's face when he looked upon his creations. It was true that Morkoth came much later than he did, when far more of the Man's blood could be seen in the Uruk-hai.

Not so when Ghrulagûrz and Nûrzgrat were whelped. Their blood stank of _snaga_ orc. It reeked of those vile beasts from the northern Misty Mountains. And their faces...

He grimaced. How repulsive they were. Abominations. Repellent and reviled. Not fit to live.

So he had heard it said hundreds of times. Those whiteskins of Dunland may have been in his Master's pocket, but they did not feel obligated to like or respect the Uruk-hai. He overheard them sneering at Ghrulagûrz and his brothers, making vile references to them, often of how they abused one another in lieu of females.

It was cruel, what their Master did. Breeding thousands upon thousands of males, and denying them the simplest of needs. Making them turn on each other, when they weren't viciously slaking their lusts on the whiteskin females a small number of them were 'lucky' enough to encounter. Making them incapable of being in the same room with a female without forcing themselves upon her.

Were he not broken when she arrived, he might have done that. He certainly felt stirred in that direction. She seemed so helpless and frail, so vulnerable. The sort of female who would give good sport, as he and his brothers would have thought not so long ago.

But he_ had_ been broken. Ruined, even. Seemingly beyond repair. Until she showed him kindness. Sympathy. A gentle touch now and then. And finally... a kiss.

When had he stopped being _Sharkû's_ Ghrulagûrz and become... this _other_ Ghrulagûrz? The kind of Uruk who thought, but did not act; who lusted, but did not rape. He didn't know, but he hoped it would hold. Brianna would not want _Sharkû's_ Ghrulagûrz; it was a mystery why she wanted the Ghrulagûrz he was becoming. Even with this strange calm that had overtaken him, he was still an orc-bred Uruk, and he believed that he would be exactly what _Sharkû_ wanted him to be when he took her.

So he must not, no matter the pain of his need. There were worse pains to endure. Her hatred was one.


	32. A Much Needed Orc to Orc Talk

**A Much-Needed Man to...er... Orc to Orc Talk**

_March 4, 3019 – The Ents defend northern Rohan against invasion; Gollum guides Frodo and Sam into the lair of Shelob_

"I want to talk to you," Ghrulagûrz said in an undertone, mindful of disturbing anyone. Morkoth raised an eyebrow. Glancing at his woman entertaining Razkaar with the buzzing and trilling of her harmonica, and Brianna speaking in low tones with Nûrzgrat, he nodded.

"Alone," the scarred Uruk said significantly. His eyes flicked from one member of the group to another, noting their positions, counting heads, making sure none were paying him any mind. Morkoth frowned, but followed where Ghrulagûrz led.

Had Morkoth been less surprised by Ghrulagûrz seeking him out for _anything_, and had the latter Uruk not been so troubled in his mind, they might have heard the slight intake of breath as they halted only yards from where Merol and Haelm were concealed.

"Something troubles you?" Morkoth asked warily.

"I want... tell me," Ghrulagûrz faltered, unsure how to ask, or even _what_ to ask. "How do you resist?"

"Resist what?"

"You _must_ want her," Ghru insisted.

Morkoth shrugged. "I have _wanted_ her since she shot out of that window and fell on me. I have _wanted_ her every night she has lain in my arms. I have _wanted_ her every day that she has been near. Of course, I want her."

"No," Ghru protested, shaking his head in frustration. "I mean _now_. This moment. You must."

Again, Morkoth shrugged. "I do. So?"

"How is it you are _here_, and not inside her?"

The large Uruk shifted awkwardly. "I am _here_ because you asked me to be. I am not _inside her_ because she does not wish it. What are you truly asking, Ghru?"

Ghrulagûrz roughly rubbed his face for a moment. "Brianna... she... I want her."

"We all know you do, this is not news," Morkoth said, a hint of impatience in his voice.

"I am afraid... I will harm her."

"Then _don't_. It is simple."

"It is _not_ 'simple'," Ghrulagûrz snarled bitterly. Morkoth started at the sudden ferocity of the other Uruk. "You... you have not done the things I have done."

"If you mean what filth like Nûlkol _made_ you do, then no, not but the one time," Morkoth snapped, "but I have done many other things. We all have. There is no vile thing _you_ have done that _I_ have not." Forcing himself to calm, for even Morkoth could see the pain in Ghrulagûrz's face, he said, "I could have kept doing it. I could have continued obeying Master's Voice though he is no longer speaking to us. I had a choice, and I chose to do what _I_ want to do. You must choose also."

"I do not know..."

"Do you wish her harm?" Morkoth interrupted forcefully.

"No, I..."

"Do you want to make her weep?"

"No."

"Do you want to comfort her in the night? Give her the warmth of your body?"

"Yes. I do these things already," Ghrulagûrz said, becoming confused.

"Do you want to give her pleasure?" Morkoth asked pointedly.

"I cannot!" Ghrulagûrz roared. "I do not know how! I have only caused pain!"

"So it was for me," Morkoth replied evenly. Ghrulagûrz stared at him. "Do you think me better than you? Did you believe that I went to Sandy and knew all? That I had forgotten what I had done countless times, and feared doing to her?"

"How, then?" Ghrulagûrz pleaded.

"She taught me," Morkoth said, shrugging. "She was patient. She took care to explain what she wanted me to do." He smiled. "_She_ made me forget what I knew, and I do not regret the loss."

The burned Uruk stared at the ground for several moments, absorbing this revelation. Perhaps if Brianna... He shook his head. He couldn't believe _anyone_ would be _that_ patient with him.

"She kissed me," he said quietly. "I felt... it was good. It was very good."

Morkoth nodded in agreement. "I would not have thought such a simple thing _would_ be, but it is." Then he chuckled. "You were not in camp when Nûrzgrat kissed her. It was not the same for him."

Ghrulagûrz shot him a shocked look. "I did not know this! Why did he do that?"

"They were talking," he replied, shrugging unconcernedly. "I was too angry to hear what was said. It was the night Sandy played her 'game.'"

"Why did he kiss her?" Ghrulagûrz snarled through clenched teeth. His hands balled into fists, and he began to tremble with jealous rage.

Morkoth chuckled again. "You do not need to feel threatened, Ghru," he said. "It looked like he banged his face against hers. I even saw her wipe her mouth after. I suspect she mentioned it, and he thought to try it. He has probably seen whiteskins do it." Laughing, he shook his head. "I would likely be just as clumsy without a teacher."

"You said... it was not the same," Ghrulagûrz prompted, somewhat mollified by his leader's apparent failure.

"He does not feel as you do," Morkoth explained. "I have learned to listen to another voice. It tells me she is my mate, and I must guard her with my life. It tells me I must please her. It tells me to listen to her."

"I hear these things as well, but Brianna is not my mate," Ghrulagûrz protested. "Why should it make a difference?"

"Isn't she?" Morkoth challenged, raising an eyebrow. "If you hear them, and she does also, I would say she is." Sighing, he shook his head. "It matters. I think... if these voices are speaking, for both, then it is different. Nûrzgrat does not hear them, not for Brianna. And no voice speaks to her, for _him_. Only for you."

"They talk a lot," the scarred Uruk growled.

"It is just talk," Morkoth said dismissively. "He is troubled about... what we were. I go to Sandy when I am troubled. You go to Brianna. He has no mate, so he must talk to her as well. She listens."

Snorting, Ghru said, "Who does Frûmâdûrz talk to?"

"No one. He has made the women dislike him, so he must fester in his own filth," Morkoth replied.

Calming a little more, Ghrulagûrz looked toward camp, where Brianna sat across from Nûrzgrat, listening to the leader. Even so far away, he could tell the older Uruk was less concerned than when Ghru and Morkoth stepped away for this talk.

"What does it feel like?" he asked quietly.

"What?" Morkoth said, frowning.

"To... mate."

Morkoth considered the question. "It is not like raping."

"What is different?" Ghru asked desperately.

"She will... embrace you, not push you away," Morkoth replied, his tone wistful. "She will kiss you, not bite you. She will touch you gently, not scratch or claw your flesh. She will speak softly, not scream. She will smile, not weep. She will open her legs, not kick you with them. She will move with you, not against you. And when she comes, and you are inside her..." He closed his eyes and a pleasant shiver shook his body.

"What?" Ghrulagûrz urged breathlessly.

"It is like... nothing I can describe," Morkoth said, blinking and shaking his head. "I do not know the words."

"But... it is good?"

"It is good," Morkoth agreed, then his brow furrowed. "But it is not _all_. When I give her such pleasure, I feel... _very_ good."

"You come?"

"Yes, but... even if I did not, I would still feel good, because I have pleased her."

"Am I... wrong... to want this?" Ghrulagûrz asked.

"I do not think so," Morkoth replied, and gripped Ghru's shoulder. It was a testament to how things had changed since that repellent Uruk's death that Ghrulagûrz did no more than flinch slightly at the touch. "Pleasure _should_ be shared between mates."

"But... if I am pleased, and she is not..."

"If she does not want it..." Morkoth began sternly, but Ghrulagûrz shook his head vigorously.

"No, I mean... if I _come_ and she does not... what then?"

Morkoth chuckled. "I do not always manage it." Grinning, he said, "She still teaches. I still learn. I get better."

"I think... I would like to learn as well," Ghrulagûrz said quietly.

"It is worth every moment spent," Morkoth assured him.

* * *

><p>Merol and Haelm couldn't take their shocked eyes off the two Uruk-hai as they returned to camp.<p>

"What... did we just hear," Merol breathed. It was more a statement than a question.

"I believe," Haelm replied slowly, "our ears heard... an elder advising an inexperienced boy in the physical matters of love. Except... our eyes saw orcs."

"That is what I thought."

They sat in silence for several minutes, watching the figures move about in the camp.

"I believe I am... not as ill as I once was," Haelm ventured. "If I saw a kiss shared again... I think... it would not disturb me as much."

"Aye," Merol agreed. "They are not as I imagined them to be. Not... the monsters we have killed for years."

"Not anymore, no," his partner replied.


	33. Well Secluded, I See All

**Well Secluded, I See All**

Beyond the reach of Tilion and Arien's light, beneath the very eyes of Tirion upon Túna, carved into the side of the mountainous wall defending Aman, was a cave.

In that cave, Mornaquesse weaved magicks of her own.

Her robed figure scuttled alone from shadow to shadow in the Cleft of Light, bound for the coast. She shuddered with revulsion beneath Arien's golden light, able at last to openly do so.

_They do not like the cringers and the sneerers, no they do not._

She had not been able to return to her haven in the foot of the Pelóri Mountains for several days, what with Vairë's attention so fixated on the _maia_'s toys.

_Foul storyteller, vile Weaver_, she thought contemptuously. _Meddling and nosing about._

Finally enveloped in the darkness of the cave, Morna relaxed and leaned against the stone wall to catch her breath. Even still, she could not tarry long. The Noser had all the Valar casting suspicious eyes upon their servants as they tried to figure out which one had fetched the women hither, only to fling them, seemingly without purpose, at a pack of orcs.

Morna giggled. _Flinging and tossing__, yes, but not without purpose._

Her hands easily found the necessary container as she drifted toward the rough-hewn basin deeper inside the cave. Dipping her fingers into the box, she scattered ash from a fire that had consumed a still-beating heart upon the water's surface, then leaned over to see what her deeds had wrought.

Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head.

"Where are you, my pretties?" she murmured, shifting the focus of her scrying pool. For a moment, she worried that her gift had been rejected, that the stupid beasts had slain them instead of putting them to use. Then she found them.

A smirk settled comfortably on Morna's face, for one of them was upon the red-haired woman, using her as had been intended. But then the _maia_'s face went slack and expressionless.

Was she... _embracing_ the hideous thing? Touching and kissing it? Blinking in confusion, she leaned closer.

That was _not_ expected. Neither was it intended. Morna had been fretting for days over what might go wrong without her watchful eye, and now she saw that her negligence had brought forth unexpected results.

Shaking herself, she forced a smile. _Not all is lost_, she thought.

"Get her with child, then," she purred, passing her hand over their conjoined forms as though adding her encouraging caresses to theirs. "In whatever way you must."


	34. You Did NOT Do This to Me, PERIOD

**You Did NOT Do This to Me, PERIOD**

_March 5, 3019 – Left for dead after being poisoned by Shelob, Frodo is captured by orcs of Cirith Ungol; Aragorn captures the black-sailed Corsairs and releases the army of the Dead, their vow fulfilled_

"So...," Brianna ventured as she and Sandy headed for a nearby stream to bathe. Now that Nûlkol was no longer hanging over them, the women felt far safer venturing away from their keepers' sides. Even Frûmâdûrz wasn't nearly as threatening. He was smart enough to keep his distance from both of them in any case, lest he suffer the same fate as the deceased Uruk. "Care to tell me what caused such trouble in paradise last night?"

Sandy grunted but said nothing at first. She was in a sour mood, and not at all interested in being kind or fair.

"I'm _guessing_, by his expression this morning, Morkoth learned something new about you," Brianna tried again. This time, she wasn't able to fully suppress the humor, and received a hostile glare as a reward. "You have to admit, you _do_ fly off the handle with remarkable speed when..."

"Yeah? Well, your time's coming in a day or two, so shut the hell up!"

"Yes, I know," Brie replied. "I've been a bit... concerned. We don't have any supplies or anything. What are you using?"

"I swiped Frû's bandages," Sandy replied sourly. "'Whatchou want all _these_ for?'" she mimicked. "Idiot."

"He's not an idiot," her friend began, then stopped. "No, you're right, he's an idiot. Just not about this. What about Morkoth? He looks like someone crapped in his breakfast."

Sandy snorted and shrugged. "It started while we were... He thought he hurt me and freaked out."

"I _hope_ you explained..."

"I _tried_, then he got all 'I'm a horrible bastard orc and I've raped and pillaged' and god knows what all else," she fumed. "I get damn tired of hearing about it, so I told him if he couldn't stop reminiscing so fondly about it, maybe he ought to go get it out of his system somewhere."

"_Sandy_," Brianna snapped angrily. "I don't care _how_ pissy you get, you had no right to hit him with that."

"He hits _me_ with it _all the fucking time!_" Sandy cried. They'd reached the stream, and she raged up and down the bank. "I've tried being nice, I've _tried_ being understanding and supportive. I _know_ he hates what he did, but he won't shut the hell up about it for _five fucking minutes_. Meanwhile I'm laying there with his _dick_ inside me, feeling almost like he's just called me by another woman's name, and I can't breathe, I can't think, I just want _away _from him!"

"Calm down," she replied soothingly. "It's okay."

"It's _not_ okay!" Sandy dropped heavily onto the ground and hugged her knees, staring off into the distance. "I love him. I do. I didn't feel... really _good_ about the things I said, but it sure as hell shut him down for awhile." She rubbed her forehead with an unsteady hand. "I want my drums. I want something to beat on. I... I miss having Nûlkol around. He'd be good for a punching bag right about now." Her voice choked off into a shaky whisper. "I hate using _him_ for one."

Sighing, Brianna sat down beside her friend and matched her pose. "What happened last night?" Brianna asked quietly.

Sandy drew a shuddering breath and blew it out slowly. "We were... doing it... you know," she said, then whispered, "doggie-style. We haven't tried that before. _I_ have, but whenever _he_ has... I guess the connotations weren't always that good. It took a bit of convincing. Anyway, I guess when I orgasmed, a... uh... little bit of blood came out. It was pretty gross," she said, chuckling uncomfortably, then sobered again. "He felt it, looked down, and completely _lost_ it. If he could have shot into the next county, he would have."

"What did he do?"

"He started bawling," she went on, feeling worse by the second. "Apologizing, begging me to forgive him... I told him it wasn't a big deal, it was _normal_, but he just... I don't think he even heard me. It was like he was someplace else."

"Maybe he was," Brianna suggested quietly. "I've been listening to Nûrzgrat. He's... pretty talkative, like... what they all went through is a poison he has to purge from his system. Much more vocal about it than Ghru, that's for sure, though he's dropped a few horror bombs of his own." She shuddered. "They're _all_ in a great deal of pain, and they all care about us. I think they see you and me as... maybe... representatives of the women they've hurt before. So they keep telling us how sorry they are, since they can't tell the ones who needed to hear it." She rested her head on her knees, turned so she could look at Sandy. "He loves you. He may not use the word, but I know he does. You really hurt him."

"I know," Sandy replied sullenly. "I feel like a huge bitch."

"Bigger than huge, in my opinion," Brianna said sternly. "You cut him where it hurts the most."

"I want to... be away from him for a bit," Sandy said. "Not forever. Just... a few days, maybe. Until Aunt Flo packs her bags and leaves. I'm just... not at my best at the moment."

"You almost died, being away from him for a day," Brianna pointed out.

"That was different," Sandy said, shaking her head. "I thought he... _I_ was going to die." She shuddered, and a sob escaped. "Brianna, I thought they were going to kill me. I didn't even think rape was in the cards, just... torture and death. I haven't had to deal with that... for quite awhile."

Brianna reached over and wrapped an arm around her sobbing friend's shoulders. "I'm glad they didn't do more than that. If anything worse happened to you than a bit of a thumping, I think Morkoth would have... Well, you wouldn't have been able to hold him back. _None_ of us would have."

"How can they _live_ like this?" Sandy asked, her voice thick with despair. "How are _we_ going to? I am _not_ leaving his side, if it means assholes like Wulfric will shoot him between the eyes as soon as look at him."

"We just can't," Brianna said simply. "They need us, more than I think even _they_ realize."

"Just what they were bred for," Sandy snorted sarcastically. "Hiding behind angry women's skirts. _That'll_ go over well."

"They'll have to learn all kinds of things," Brianna said. "One of those things is likely going to be keeping their heads down when humans are around. At least until this war is over."

Sandy shook her head. "Brie, you don't get it. The war will _never_ be over, not for them. Once Sauron is defeated, it's open season on anything that looks, smells, walks, or talks like an orc. That means these guys we care so much about, and it means...," she said, then stopped. Swallowing hard and wincing, she continued, "It means any half-orc babies that come out of this."

"You can't be serious," Brianna breathed, horrified. "Are you saying... people like Wulfric... will just... walk up, and slaughter our children right in front of us? Just because they look a little... different?"

"We ain't in Kansas anymore," Sandy growled.

"That puts it all in a different perspective, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Sandy agreed, scraping her toe in the sandy bank. "I never thought of myself as the 'mom' type. I guess it just depends on the guy who... 'does it' for you, huh? I can tell nothing in this world would make him happier than holding his own child. One that isn't... tainted by someone like Saruman. Just... a normal kid. I want that, too. Even if it means we have to hide for the rest of our lives."

Brianna hugged herself and stared ahead. "So do I," she said quietly.

Sandy's eyebrows rose, and she regarded her friend with surprise. "Really? Anything you want to, you know, dish? I wasn't under the impression that you two had done the dance yet."

Shaking her head and blushing, Brianna said, "We haven't. We only just kissed the other day."

"What was it like?" Sandy said in a cajoling manner, nudging Brie's shoulder with amusement.

Brianna laughed and ducked her head shyly. "Probably not as... invasive as you and Morkoth, I imagine. Just... a simple kiss."

"Any since then?"

Brianna shook her head. "I'm not sure why. He obviously liked it. And I mean _obviously_ liked it."

"I'll be damned, you gave him a boner," Sandy snickered.

"Shush!" Brie admonished, blushing even more. "Yes."

They giggled together for a few minutes, then Brie sobered a bit. "He... doesn't handle it well. When he gets an erection. It probably scares him a little."

"A man afraid of his own dick," Sandy mused. "What a story _that_ would make, huh?"

"Oh, shut up," Brie snapped. "I'm serious, now. From what I can gather of his admittedly disjointed recollections, he only got one when someone _made_ him get one. It just... stopped happening without help, and it wasn't really the kind of help he _wanted_. So... he's got a ton of guilt and negativity associated with it."

Sandy nodded. "You know, we're always taught that men are the tough ones, the untouchable ones. Things like rape don't happen to them."

"It does, though," Brie replied. "More than we know about, even in our own world. I feel like... I'm shooting in the dark, trying to help him with something that I have very little experience dealing with."

"'Little experience'?" Sandy said incredulously.

"From a _man's_ perspective," Brianna clarified. "I can _guess_, of course. You know how men are where we come from. They're raised to bury their emotions, keep it all inside, but some of them throw that off and aren't afraid to be sensitive. I'm finding that paradigm difficult to apply to the Uruk-hai."

Sandy snorted in amused agreement. "You've got that right. Tough and hard-shelled, yes. But I wouldn't _ever_ call them 'fearlessly sensitive.' Maybe embarrassedly considerate. Or grudgingly thoughtful."

"Now, I think they're much more forthcoming with you and me, you must admit," Brie pointed out. "With each other, they're a bit closed-mouthed, I suppose."

"Just like normal men," Sandy laughed. Sighing, she rose and stretched. "Better get busy. Our asses won't wash themselves."

* * *

><p>Nûrzgrat poked at the flattened grass south of their camp, his brow furrowed. He drew in a long sniff. With the women so far away, it was easier to pick up the scent without theirs interfering.<p>

Man-flesh. Recent, too.

There were tracks leading away further south. If anyone else had found them, he would kick their ass for not finding out all the facts. So he rose to a crouch and flitted through the tall grass, keeping the scent in his nostrils and the tracks in his sight.

The tracks merged with others, and Nûrzgrat slowed to a halt to examine them. They were shod, but probably only with flat sandals or soft-soled boots. Not metal boots that might indicate soldiers like the horselords. His frown deepened. There wasn't any sign of his own kind among the prints.

He supposed he should be relieved by that, but he didn't much like the implication of the rest. Lifting his head above the grass, he looked southward in the direction the tracks were headed.

There was thick, black smoke curling up into the sky.


	35. Smoke From a Distant Fire

**Smoke From a Distant Fire**

"_Ghaashkarn_!"

Sandy nearly fell on her backside in the stream at the sound of Morkoth's voice roaring from camp. Stumbling to the sandy bank, she hastily pulled her clothes on, nearly pitching face first into a bush as she hopped on one leg, halfway in and out of her jeans.

"What's going on?" Brianna cried, likewise struggling into her shirt with her still-splinted arm.

"Something's wrong," her friend muttered, then ran as fast as she could. Brianna kept pace, her heart pounding with fear.

All sorts of terrible visions ran through the women's minds as they closed on the camp, yet when they arrived, the six Uruk-hai were standing around in a group by the fire.

"What is it?" Sandy gasped breathlessly. Morkoth detached from the others and swiftly embraced her.

"You are safe," he murmured.

"What's going on?" Brianna asked. Ghru fidgeted, flexing his hands. Without waiting on him, Brianna went over and touched his arm. "Ghru, what..."

Shaking, he grabbed her fiercely and held her against him.

"I found some tracks," Nûrzgrat finally said. It seemed he had been running hard, and was just getting his breath back. "There's a village just south. It's burning."

Sandy broke away from Morkoth and turned to the leader. "How close did you get? Could you see anything? Do they need our help?"

"Help?" Nurzgrat barked incredulously. "Help who? The villagers or the Dunlendings?" He spat on the ground. "We poke our noses in, and the Dunlendings'll tell us to mind our own affairs. Or they'll just kill us." He spread his hands out. "We got no armor. Not even hides."

"You have swords," Sandy pointed out fiercely. "There may be survivors. We could help them."

"Yes, let's help the stinking whiteskins," Frûmâdûrz snarled sarcastically. "They would rush to _our_ aid, I'm certain."

"Fine, _you_ can sit back here and jerk off," the red-head snapped. "Pass up your best chance at... at making amends for being such an insufferable bastard."

"She's right," Nûrzgrat said after a moment, coming to a decision. "Morkoth, Ghru, Frû – get the swords. Brie and Sandy, you take Ghru's knives. You come with us, but stay the fuck out of the fight. Watch the younglings; keep'em safe." He looked around at the stunned faces. "Am I fucking talking to _myself_? Move your asses!"

* * *

><p>A dark-skinned man with tribal paint streaks across his high cheekbones held the flaxen-haired woman's wrists in a single hand while the other tore at her dress. Her screams were deafening as she struggled, but not loud enough to drown out his laughter. All of a sudden, her face went slack, her screams stopped, and she looked up past his shoulder, her mouth agape in silent terror. The Dunlending had a moment to wonder at what might have stolen the woman's attention before his head was swept from his shoulders to land several yards away.<p>

Her rescuer kicked the man's corpse to the side, then inexplicably extended a black, clawed hand, offering to help her stand. She looked into his brutish, flame-scarred face, the face of a monster, of a beast she knew only in tales of destruction and repulsive violation.

"Come," he said, his voice gravelly and deep. "No harm will come to you."

His yellow eyes, though framed by a face out of nightmares, told her he was not lying. She accepted his hand and stood on shaking legs.

"Go that way, between those two houses," he said, pointing back the way he'd come. "My mate will see to you." He then firmly shoved her in that direction. Confused, she did as she was told, hugging herself and stumbling forward quickly.

To her surprise, two human women stood just outside of the flaming village, a pair of orcs smaller than the woman's savior sitting with them. The one with dark hair hastened to her.

"Over here," she said, wrapping an arm around the woman's shoulders and guiding her to their little group. The other woman with strikingly red hair handed a waterskin to her and she drank gratefully.

"Not too much," she chided gently. "It's all we have." The woman nodded, and stoppered the skin.

The dark-haired woman looked back toward the village and bit her lip anxiously. "Everything's on fire."

"Yeah," the other agreed.

"He's afraid of fire, Sandy."

"Shit," Sandy breathed. "You stay here. That arm... just stay. Thakûf, don't do anything stupid. Raz, stay put."

"Where are you going?" the other woman asked.

"If they have to enter a building, they're already down one," Sandy replied grimly. "Gotta go even it back up." Gripping the long knife in her hand, the red-head took off into the chaos of the village.

The Rohirrim woman slowly turned her head to look at the smaller of the two orcs sitting close by.

His face was twitching as he stared wide-eyed at her, and he was breathing quickly. If she didn't know better, she would think him terrified of her. It was laughable, yet somehow she had no room for mirth at the moment.

* * *

><p>Frûmâdûrz was in trouble. He hadn't actually seen true battle yet when his home was destroyed. He'd been trained, certainly, and had done his share of killing other Uruk-hai who gave him trouble, had taken part in a few very one-sided raids, yet he'd never been in a fight like <em>this<em>. Understanding _how_ to avoid being struck by a blade was a lot different from managing to successfully do so long enough to prevail against your opponent.

Or _both_ of your opponents.

He had two Dunlending in front of him, and it was all he could do to block their swings. He couldn't get a hit in, for if he went for one, he was open to the other. It was largely a stalemate, though he was taking wounds with every passing second, and giving few.

He'd almost given himself up for dead when he heard the sound of steel-shod feet running up behind.

Out of nowhere it seemed, two Riders of Rohan flanked him on either side and engaged the Dunlendings, making short work of the surprised raiders. Once the threat was dealt with, Frû turned on the Riders and opened his mouth to ask who the hell they were and where they came from, but one of them didn't give him the chance.

"If you want to draw another breath, orc," he growled, gripping Frû by the front of his shirt, "you will help us."

"I _was_ helping!" Frûmâdûrz cried indignantly.

"My wife is here, somewhere," the other man said, his voice shaking. "They would have gone to the longhouse. There is a cellar beneath."

"Then we go there," the first agreed, then shoved the Uruk in the direction of the biggest inferno in the entire village.

* * *

><p>The sweeping descent of Morkoth's broadsword cleaved the Dunlending's spine, killing him instantly. The man crumpled and fell across the body of a woman he'd just slain, tearing her body apart in his madness.<p>

Morkoth had never felt such rage as he did now, looking upon the dead female staring skyward. The expression on her face – shocked horror – was one he'd seen many times. One he'd _caused_. Two more Dunlendings came at him with swords waving. Roaring a challenge, he charged.

* * *

><p>He could hear them. The screams of terrified women and children. Ghrulagûrz stood frozen in front of the longhouse, unable to move a muscle. Flames licked the timbers, roaring through the building before him. He knew there were people inside, but he couldn't move.<p>

"What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?" Nurzgrat barked as he ran up, blood dripping off his sword. Taking a deep breath, he realized why the big Uruk was transfixed by the fire, and gripped Ghru's shoulder. He was relieved to see Morkoth come around a nearby building to join them.

"We gotta get in there," he began, then started in shock as Frû raced up in the company of two horse lords. "Where the fuck did _you_ lot come from?"

"No time," one said firmly. "There's a trapdoor in the floor, over near the far end of the main hall." The other was wild-eyed with panic; he could hear the cries inside the building just as well as the Uruk-hai. The first man was about to enter, when Morkoth exploded.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" the big Uruk bellowed. All turned in the direction he was facing, and nearly fell over in shock.

"Cover your noses and mouths," Sandy instructed briskly. "Don't breathe in the smoke if you can help it."

"You should be outside the village," Morkoth snarled as he did what she told him.

"Ghru isn't going in there!" she snapped. "You'll need an extra pair of hands."

"Not yours!" he roared, then immediately shoved her out of the way, knocking her to the ground. Sandy almost yelled at him for the rough treatment, until she realized three more Dunlendings had converged on them, and the Uruk-hai were engaged in another fight right on top of her. Covering her head, she dove out of the way.

"Come on!" the steadier of the two Riders called, and leaped over the burning threshold into the longhouse. The other Rider, Sandy, and Frû followed without hesitation, leaving the three remaining Uruk-hai to deal with the attackers.

It was like walking into hell, Sandy thought. The heat was intense, the sound from the fire so loud she could barely hear herself think. Ash and heat burned her eyes. And on top of the fire's roar, the screams.

"This way!" the lead man cried. The main hall of the longhouse had several support beams tipping precariously, about to collapse. Sandy fixed her eyes on the square of wood ahead of them.

The man pried open the trapdoor, and began shouting instructions in a foreign tongue. The women and children began coming out. Their expressions of relief were replaced with fear when they saw Frû, and outright panic when Morkoth and Nûrzgrat came crashing in.

"Get them out!" the first man cried, pushing one woman after another at the Uruk-hai. Sandy grabbed a small boy about the waist with one arm and took a slightly older girl by the hand, then raced outside. One by one, the survivors were escorted out, and their unexpected rescuers dove back into the inferno for another.

"Is that all?" the second Rider asked desperately when it seemed the cellar below them was empty.

"I know not!" the first replied. A loud creaking sound interrupted. The support beam right next to them began to fall.

Before they could leap out of the way, Nûrzgrat was under the beam, holding it steady with both hands. He bellowed in agony as the flame-wreathed wood seared his flesh, but he held on. The second man ran down the stairs.

Seconds later, he emerged, dragging an hysterical woman by the arm. They were all so covered with soot and grime, she thought them Dunlendings, or worse. Her fears seemed confirmed when she laid eyes on Frû. She screamed, and tried to go back into the cellar.

The first Rider was now helping Nûrzgrat hold the beam, his gauntleted hands better protected. The second man, still not satisfied that every nook and cranny of the cellar had been searched for his missing wife, flung the distraught woman at Frû and disappeared down the stairs once more.

She struck his chest in desperation to free herself. She screamed for help. He just stared at her, transfixed.

"Get her out, dammit!" the man at the beam cried, straining to hold it up. If he didn't have the orc's help, it would have fallen by now.

Frû ducked and flung the woman over his shoulder, then ran out.

The second man finally came back out, nearly in tears. He thumped his partner and the orc on the shoulders, and they gratefully let the beam fall. The huge timber crashed loudly over the cellar's trapdoor, ending any thoughts of another quick search. Then they abandoned the longhouse themselves.

The group outside the longhouse only had a moment to gasp for breath before the ones bearing arms were obliged to fight once more. Five Dunlending warriors descended on them. Roaring their challenges, the Uruk-hai charged back into the fray, accompanied by the Riders. Sandy herded the women and children out of the village. It took her a moment to realize Frû came with her, still carrying the choking and feebly protesting woman.

"I'll take her, Frû, it's okay," she said. He shot her a look that she'd never seen from him before. "_Now_, Frû! And tell Nûrzgrat to get his ass out of the fight. His hands are burned. I can't believe he's even holding a sword." Snarling, the Uruk lowered the woman to her feet, glared once at Sandy, then ran back.

"Come on," Sandy said, grabbing the woman's elbow and dragging her after the rest of the survivors.

* * *

><p>The sun was low in the western sky when calm finally descended. The raiding Dunlendings, numbering twenty in all, were dead or had run off in a panic. Wearily, Sandy had to chuckle. What an interesting story <em>they'd<em> be telling back home. She raised her soot-covered hands and sighed. _Just took a god-damned bath._

There were a dozen women and five children. Morkoth and one of the Riders were checking the perimeter, making sure no more of the Dunlendings were close enough to stage a counter-assault. Sandy surveyed the rest of the group. Nûrzgrat was shouting expletives at the top of his voice as Brianna applied a healing salve to his burned hands and chastised him for being such a baby. The second Rider was wrapped in the relieved embrace of a woman that hadn't been in the longhouse at all, but had stumbled to their location soon after the Uruk-hai entered the village. While Sandy was helping the boys, Brianna discovered the woman had been rescued from assault by Ghru. She had to smile. _Way to pay it forward, big guy._

Razkaar had apparently decided that human children weren't nearly as terrifying as adults, and was sitting with the five kids, chatting amicably about... well, whatever it was little kids talked about. One girl who couldn't be more than four, was absolutely fascinated with his ears, and kept tugging on them. To Sandy's surprise, he was more amused than annoyed by her attention. Thakûf was likewise a source of entertainment, for he was just as unabashedly curious about them as they were about him. Sandy kept glancing over there, hoping the notoriously uninhibited Uruk wouldn't do anything offensive.

Then there was the woman Frû had rescued from the longhouse. She sat there, hugging herself and staring at her knees. Sandy wasn't entirely surprised; every time the poor girl looked up, she found Frû staring at her. Every attempt by one of the women to tend to her, however, seemed to be met by cringing and retreat. It was suspicious and unsettling, making Sandy wonder if she had been assaulted at some point, whether today or before. Though exhausted and still PMSing to beat the band, Sandy decided she'd have to step in, since Brianna was busy, and waved to get the Uruk's attention. When he noticed her, she beckoned him over. Frû glanced back at the Rohirrim woman, then dragged himself over to sit by Sandy.

"What?" he grumbled.

"I couldn't help noticing," she said conversationally, yet keeping her voice down, "how smitten you are by that woman. Want to talk about it?"

"What is 'smitten'?" he growled.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" Sandy pressed. Frû only shrugged, but glanced at the woman anyway. "Just an FYI. She's a local. Probably well aware of what you are, and where you came from. She might not be as... tolerant as Brie or I, you know?"

The Uruk slowly turned his head and glared hotly at Sandy. "Fuck. You," he snarled. Then he jumped up and stormed away.

Sighing, Sandy rose and went to the woman in question. She started, looking up at Sandy warily. "Can we talk?"

* * *

><p>Frûmâdûrz felt sick to his stomach. At least, he thought he did. It seemed that his guts were crawling around inside him. Something... strange happened to him when he entered the village, and he didn't know what to do with himself now.<p>

It was when he heard the screaming, he remembered. He'd heard screaming before. He'd made whiteskin females scream a few times, as well. It usually excited him, aroused him, urged him to do whatever was necessary to prolong it, increase the volume.

Today, though, the screams agitated him. Made his stomach twist. Filled him with the urge... no, the _need_ to stop it, at whatever cost. He knew, walking into that burning building, that the only way to stop it was to _get them out_. Thinking about it now, he knew that another effective way would have been to let them die. But that thought hadn't crossed his mind while the screaming was filling his ears.

He ran his fingers roughly through his hair, holding his head in both hands. He needed to know her name. He needed to understand why looking into her eyes seemed to shatter him into a million pieces and make him feel whole and complete, all in the same moment.

* * *

><p>"You have spied on us," Morkoth accused harshly as he and the Rider made their way back to the group.<p>

Haelm sighed. "Aye, that we have. I hope you can forgive us. We were following orders."

"We were not trusted," the Uruk growled.

"No, you were not."

"Are we now?"

"Yes," the Rider replied firmly.


	36. FrûMancing the Stone

**Frû-Mancing the Stone**

"Sit still, beast," Gurvalthen snapped, smacking the back of Frûmâdûrz's head. She was the eldest of the survivors, the village's chief healer, and had taken charge of the wounded. Her assistant had refused to touch the orcs, so she'd steeled herself and seen to stitching the many sword cuts they'd received. After tending to a foot-long slice across Nûrzgrat's chest and dealing with _his_ coarse, blustering attitude, the woman was done fearing them.

Frû did as he was told, though the needle dipping in and out of his flesh was irritating. At least he could see the one he'd rescued, though she refused to look at him.

"What is her name?" he asked the healer, nodding toward the woman with whom Sandy was now speaking.

"Never you mind," she snapped.

"_Tell me_," the Uruk snarled, grabbing her by the throat.

"Let her go!" Morkoth roared. He hadn't let Frû out of his sight since the battle ended, and now he was glad of it. The huge Uruk back-handed the smaller one across the face. Frû was so startled he released the terrified woman. "Apologies," Morkoth muttered.

"Mind yourself," Gurvalthen hissed at Frû, rubbing her neck. "We owe a debt, but it won't be paid with such favors as _you've_ got in mind."

"We do not ask for payment," Morkoth replied, shooting a hostile glare at Frû. "You tend our wounds. That is more than enough."

* * *

><p>"Hey, are you all right?" Sandy asked the trembling woman.<p>

"I am... alive."

"Look, um, I completely understand," the redhead said gently. "When I first met these guys, they scared the crap out of me. Thing is, they're not that bad when you get to know them."

The woman turned a horrified look at Sandy. "I do not _want_ to get to know them. I do not want to have anything to _do_ with them. I would be better satisfied if they were all _dead_!"

"Okay," Sandy nodded. "Fair enough. I guess... you don't owe them anything, really. What with all the things they've done, or others like them have done _before_ today. I understand."

"Do you?" she snapped. "You travel with them?"

"Yes, Brie and I both do," Sandy acknowledged, gesturing toward the dark-haired woman looking after Ghrulagûrz's injuries. It was clear even from where they were sitting that there was intimacy between the woman and the Uruk. The Rohirrim woman blanched.

"He owns her, does he?"

"Owns? No, not at all," Sandy replied. "Probably the other way around, knowing him." She chuckled. "Look, I'm not going to lie to you. Those two are committed to one another. In love, you know."

The woman's shocked expression changed to revulsion. "That is _foul_. And quite impossible."

"Yeah, well, hang on to your hat, because _that_ one is my lover," Sandy said, nodding toward Morkoth. He had just stood up, towering over everyone, and walked over to where a rain barrel had been dragged. He fetched a bucket of water for the healer and brought it back.

The flaxen-haired woman stared at Sandy with horror. "Things... sort of happened," Sandy explained. "They're not the same as they were when Saruman ordered them around. Hard to believe, I know, but in the couple weeks we've been with them, they've been... fairly tame." Sighing, the redhead said, "This sort of brings up the issue at hand, which is that the one who brought you out of the longhouse is, apparently, infatuated with you."

"I remember him," she snarled. "All too well."

"Yes, um, about that...," Sandy began awkwardly. She wished Brianna wasn't so busy being the nurturer way over there, and start doing some nurturing _right here_. This was not Sandy's niche, and she didn't know how to broach the subject. "_He_ hasn't done anything to hurt you. _He_ saved your life."

"_He_ did not come into being the day you met him," the woman growled. "I have seen him _before_."

Sandy was struck speechless and could only stare at the woman in shocked silence for several moments. Finally, she found her voice.

"You're going to tell me something really god-awful, aren't you?"

* * *

><p>Frû's eyes narrowed, watching the woman speaking with Sandy. By the expressions, he could tell it was not a discussion he really wanted to hear, especially when Sandy turned to glare at him as if he had just done something offensive.<p>

He felt such hunger for the woman, it gnawed at his insides. Hearing a warning growl beside him, he hastily looked away. Morkoth was watching, and not trusting, as usual. After a few minutes, Sandy rose and stomped over to them.

"You. Over there," she snapped, pointing at Frû. Then she strode away from the group. Sighing, the Uruk rose and followed.

"Am I to apologize for saving her, now?" he snarled. Sandy rounded on him and applied a stinging slap across his face.

"You unbelievable _bastard_," she hissed.

"What the fuck was _that_ for?" he barked, rubbing his cheek. He would have hit her back, but Morkoth accompanied them.

"What is going on?"

"This... piece of shit slaughtered her parents, then raped and killed her sister _right in front of her_!" Sandy cried, punching Frû in the chest.

"How the fuck does she know it was _me_?" the Uruk retorted.

"There are some things you _don't forget_, and the face of the one who _murdered your family_ is one of those things!"

"Sandy, that was long ago...," Morkoth began, and she cut him off with a sweeping motion of her hand.

"It doesn't make any difference," she snapped. "It could have been a hundred years ago or this morning, and it wouldn't matter _to her_. And this...," she said, turning a disgusted look at the stricken Uruk, "_this_ thing thinks he's getting in her pants. That she'll be so _grateful_ for being rescued, she'll be more than happy to service him. Well, my friend, you aren't getting anywhere near her, so you'd better tighten up your drawers and get some pointers on self-help from Thakûf, you hear me?"

"How is it she survived, if such things were done before her eyes?" Morkoth asked. He'd been on raids like that, possibly the same one. Leaving survivors behind was not very common.

"Hiding," Sandy snapped. "Her parents told her to stay out of sight no matter what happened, and it was sheer luck that she was missed."

"What is her name?" Frû asked desperately.

"None of your god damned business, asshole," Sandy snapped.

"_He_ has done the same, and you spread your legs for _him_!" Frû roared.

"He didn't do it to anyone I knew, he's _never_ done it in front of me, and he's actually _sorry_ he ever _did_ do it!" she shrieked, slapping Frû's head and chest with each syllable. She could easily do worse, really lay him out, but at the back of her mind, she knew Morkoth was right, even though he wasn't pressing the point. It _was_ a long time ago, probably two years by the woman's reckoning. So much had changed for the Uruk-hai just in the last month that _none _of them were the same as they were then, not even Frû.

"I can be sorry...," Frû began, but Sandy rounded on him again.

"The day _you_ feel sorry for _anything_ disgusting you've done will be the day Razkaar stops squealing like a little girl over people wearing shoes."

* * *

><p>"I do not understand how you can <em>touch<em> them, let alone heal them. I will have nothing to do with them," the woman snapped when the healer came to see her.

"I have a duty," Gurvalthen replied gently, patting the woman's shoulder. "And they did give us aid." Sighing, the healer said, "We have always been lucky. The fate of other villages was never ours. Their kind never came to us before, and we were grateful for being missed. Yet on the day our village is burned by others of our own kind, they came." She shook her head, bewildered.

"_My_ village was not so lucky," the woman growled.

The healer sat beside her and put an arm about her shoulders. "I know, Hengolwen. You were in my thoughts the moment I came out of the cellar and saw them. You have been in my thoughts all this day." Squeezing her, the healer said reassuringly, "It would seem they have different ideas than we thought. Their leader is like a gruff old man, but I believe he means well."

"I do not care," she snapped belligerently. "He could be one of the blessed, and I would not care. I am sorry, but I will not help you heal them."

"I did not come looking for your help; I just wanted to see how you fared." Gurvalthen turned and looked over the group. Merol, Morkoth and Nûrzgrat had gone into the village to scavenge anything useful, and were now handing out blankets and setting up crude shelters with the help of Haelm and the other orcs. Several of the ladies were tending to the evening meal in a huge cooking pot hanging over a blazing fire. The children were still laughing and playing with the smaller orcs, having a wonderful time and seemingly forgetful of the horrors of the day.

"It is a wonder, is it not?" the healer murmured. "I shall never forget this day, when our lives were saved by our enemies."

"It does not make amends for all," the woman whispered coldly.

"No, I suspect it does not, and not only for you," the elder woman replied. She nodded to a young girl on the cusp of womanhood who had not left her mother's side since the orcs first appeared, and remained staring with haunted eyes at them, as if waiting for her nightmares to be realized at any moment. The pair were also refugees from another destroyed village. "Memories are long, and suffering was great."

"I but wait for nightfall," Hengolwen snarled, curling her lip. "And I shall have my vengeance."

* * *

><p>"Forgive me for my words," Morkoth said humbly when he was finally able to get Sandy alone. Relatively alone, that is. They were surrounded by people. Not more than a couple of yards away was the woman with whom Frû was so taken. Morkoth could tell she was listening to them, but there was nothing he could do about it. Sandy was reluctant to let the woman out of her sight, and certainly not leave her unguarded with Frû acting so strangely.<p>

"No," Sandy sighed, taking his hand and squeezing it firmly. "You didn't do anything wrong. I get a little crazy when... when I bleed. Like I tried to tell you, it's _normal_. You didn't do anything wrong, you didn't hurt me, you didn't... ," she insisted, then sighed, leaning against him. He put his arm around her gratefully. "I'm really sorry I said those things to you, Morkoth. It was completely out of line."

"It is no matter," he murmured, nuzzling her neck behind her ear and smiling. "I forgive you."

"You know," Sandy said softly, "there's a tradition I rather like."

"What is that?" Morkoth asked.

"After an argument gets resolved," she said, teasingly stroking his thigh, "well, it's almost a _requirement_ that we, you know... make up." She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

A slow grin crept across his face. "Are you attempting to seduce me?" he challenged, raising his eyebrow.

"Is it working?"

"You have never needed to convince me," Morkoth chuckled, then his brow furrowed. "But... it is probably not..."

"No, you're right," Sandy agreed with a sigh. "Wouldn't want to scare the natives. And there's the gross blood thing." She shuddered slightly. "I don't feel particularly sexy at the moment."

"I will remember what is owed," he whispered into her ear, and she giggled as his breath tickled.

* * *

><p>Once he'd seen to the comfort of the women, and ensured his own charges were relatively calmed and cared for, Nûrzgrat stormed across the camp toward Frûmâdûrz. Sandy had put a word in his ear, and he promised her he'd deal with it. All knew that Frû followed no one's orders but Nûrzgrat's.<p>

"Get up, maggot," he snarled, grabbing Frû's upper arm and dragging the Uruk to his feet and out beyond the perimeter of the makeshift camp. He didn't even break stride, and Frû stumbled along off-balance. When the leader finally stopped a satisfactory distance from the humans, Frû yanked his arm free and glared at Nûrzgrat.

"I knew the whiteskins would be ungrateful for our help," he growled. "I did not know how fucking insane all _you_ lot would be."

"You sniff around that woman anymore, I'll cut your throat," Nûrzgrat barked.

"But she smells so _good_," Frû leered. The chief grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward so their faces were inches apart.

"I found rope, boy," he hissed. "I've a mind to truss your ass up and let her have her way with you."

"You wouldn't. She'll kill me," Frû breathed, fear widening his eyes. He knew better than to imagine Nûrzgrat was issuing an empty threat.

"Your fucking problem, not mine," the leader snarled. "That is exactly what we deserve, every one of us."

"We _saved_ them!" Frû protested, shaking himself loose again. "We fucking _saved_ them! Does that mean nothing?"

"That is _exactly_ what it means, fuckwit," Nûrzgrat growled. "Get used to it."

"Then... then what is the point?" Frû retorted. "What is the fucking point? We should have left them all to die."

Tired of holding back, Nûrzgrat punched the Uruk in the face, laying him flat on the ground. Then he grabbed the front of Frû's shirt again and hauled him to his feet. "The _point_ is, we decided we'd do what's gotta be done to make amends. It don't matter if we get no thanks for it. _Look_ at them," he snarled, turning the dazed Uruk to face the camp full of calmly moving folk, dishing out bowls of stew, wrangling children, bandaging the last of the wounds. "They're alive. That's... seventeen that ain't kill marks on some southerner's tent pole. That's seventeen who ain't paying the price for our Master's treachery. Maybe... maybe that's seventeen who'll tell someone... tell them..." He faltered, a lump annoyingly in his throat.

"Tell'em what?" Frû growled through clenched teeth, recovering and grabbing his leader's wrists, trying to wrestle himself free. "Tell'em we're good little orcs? Tell'em we're fucking sorry for what we did? Grovel at their fucking feet and beg forgiveness?"

Nûrzgrat let him go so suddenly, Frû staggered backwards. "What we _oughta_ do is roll over and show our bellies for the things we've done." Turning to Frû, the leader grimaced. "They owe us _nothing_. There is such a huge fucking debt _we_ still owe, we ain't _never_ paying it all. We can only chip away at it. You damn well better not add to that debt by goin' after that girl. You so much as _look_ at her funny, and I will cut off your cock and make you eat it. _That_ oughta slow your ass down."

"I don't remember you saying these words to Morkoth or Ghru," Frûmâdûrz snarled.

"They want more than fucking outta _their_ women," Nûrzgrat snapped. "You, I don't see nothin' but more of what we used to do. Sure didn't think we needed a replacement for Nûlkol, but fuck it all, we got us one. I think I _will_ put you at her mercy. Fix _both_ our problems."

"Don't," Frû begged, "please. She will _have_ no mercy."

"Like I said," Nûrzgrat growled. "Not my fucking problem."

* * *

><p>In the stillness, Frû sat in the shadow of a charred, ruined house, wrists and ankles bound, chest tied to an exposed support beam, eyes wide with fear. The moon was high and nearly full, illuminating the remains of houses and outbuildings, some still glowing from the heat of the flames that consumed them. The Uruk's ears twitched at every sound, though most of them were the lingering pops and snaps of the longhouse fire running its course. His body shook violently as though he were freezing, yet the lingering heat of the house at his back prevented any cold from reaching him. His body dripped sweat, his breath came in halting gasps. He froze when his ears picked up footsteps approaching.<p>

He couldn't believe Nûrzgrat had done this; he reeled in shock that _none_ of the others rose to his defense or offered to watch his back. In fact, that bitch Sandy had even gone to the woman and told her exactly where he'd be.

"Now you're in _her_ shoes, you miserable bastard," Sandy told him. "We'll see if she's got it in her to wear _yours_."

Turning his head wildly in every direction, he peered through the semi-darkness, trying to see where the threat was coming from, because the placement of the buildings was not helping him pinpoint the source of the footfalls. Eventually, his frantic eyes found the dark form of a woman approaching.

His breath caught as he recognized her scent. He saw the knife in her hand, ironically one of Ghru's. He couldn't think, could barely swallow through the constriction in his throat. Frû began to tremble in earnest.

"You fear me," the Rohirrim woman said quietly. "That is good." She halted and looked coldly down at him.

"Please," Frû pleaded. "I beg of you."

She raised an eyebrow. "You... _beg_ of me? Yes, you'll beg. Perhaps I will hear you. Perhaps not. You did not hear my sister, as I recall."

The Uruk had never known such fear. While he had faced whiteskin females before, and some had enough fight left in them to give him a good pounding, he had never been at the mercy of one to this degree. He could barely move, and could not defend himself at all.

"I was under orders," he hastily explained, staring at one of the knives that slew Nûlkol. "They made us do those things. We had no choice."

"I do not have a choice, either," she said. "My sister, my mother, and my father cry out for your blood. I hear _them_; not you."

"I will do... _anything_," he cried, his breath coming faster. "Anything you ask of me. Please."

"Will you die?"

"Except that," he whimpered.

She knelt next to him and pressed the tip of the knife to his chest, gripping the handle with both hands. They shook so violently, the front of his shirt started to tear. He darted his eyes to her face. She looked close to tears, her mouth quivering, eyes gleaming wetly.

"I vowed to kill you, if ever I saw you again," she hissed, her jaw clenched, her voice shaking as much as her hands. "Béma smiled when he delivered you to me."

"I am sorry," Frû whispered desperately. "Sorry. Please. I am _sorry_. I... tell me... please... tell me your name before... just... your name... please..."

She sat there for several tense seconds with a white-knuckled grip on the knife. Frû began to hyperventilate, each gasping breath forcing the knife tip into his skin and pushing him farther over the edge. A whimper escaped, and warmth suddenly spread between his legs.

Then a sob broke free of the woman. Her shoulders slumped, the knife fell. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She covered her eyes and bowed her head. "I have... hated you. I never... never dreamed you would come to me. I hoped you wouldn't. I hoped never to see you again. When we heard the wizard's filthy monsters had all been destroyed, I was _glad_. It meant you were dead. Their ghosts could rest." She raised her head, staring at him through tear-blurred eyes. "I failed. I cannot avenge them."

Frû's breath escaped in a whoosh of relief, and he took in great gulps of air. His head fell back against the wall behind him.

To his surprise, and the woman's, Sandy stepped out of the shadows and knelt beside her. "You didn't fail. You're stronger than he is, by far," she said with a slight smile.

"You... you were there all the time?" Frû cried, incredulous.

Sandy took the knife and cut the ropes securing the Uruk. "I don't trust you any further than I can throw you, Frû. Which is, arguably, a good distance, if I get the proper leverage. I trust _her_ even less."

"What game is this?" the woman asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

"No games," Sandy replied. "Okay, maybe a little one. Look, he may suck, but he's one of us. We're not going to just smile and let someone butcher him without batting an eye."

Frû chafed his wrists and glared at Sandy. "You took your fucking time stepping in."

"Ah, as polite as always," she sighed. "I wanted to see you sweat, jerk. Seeing you piss yourself was icing on the cake_._" Glancing at the Rohirrim, she said, "I was pretty sure she wasn't going through with it."

"'Pretty sure'?" Frû roared. "You gambled my fucking life on 'pretty sure'?"

"How could you know?" she asked. "Even _I_ did not know."

"It takes... a special kind of person to kill in cold blood," Sandy replied. "You may hate him more than anyone, but you're not that kind of person. God help you if you ever _become_ one."

"I want to see him die," she protested, her voice unsteady, teeth bared.

"You want to see him _punished_, I'll give you that. Personally, I thought seeing him get the shit scared out of him was pretty satisfying. But it's your call. Bear in mind, though, we won't let you kill him."

"You are such a _bitch_, Sandy," Frû snarled.

The red-head crouched down beside him and fixed him with a glare that made him flinch. "I have a cousin who never learns anything by example. He could stand there watching all of his friends jump off a building and die, and he'd _still_ try it, thinking the outcome would be different because it's _him_. You're just like him. You need to get hit in the head with a brick before anything sinks in." She jerked a thumb toward the Rohirrim woman. "She's your brick."

Standing, she said, "With any luck, when your life flashed before your eyes, you realized a few things about your past offenses. Like, sometimes, someone's going to show up and collect. Something to think about." Turning, she left them alone, taking the weapon with her.

They sat in silence for several moments, the woman's eyes still cast down, Frû's fixed on her.

"No one listens to me," he said hollowly. "They do not hear me."

The woman slowly raised her eyes to his, but said nothing.

"I fear... and no one cares," he went on. "I hurt, and no one cares."

"Do you care about anyone but yourself?" she asked coldly.

He looked away and thought about it. Before today, he would have had his answer quickly, but now... he wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure about _anything_ anymore.

"What does it mean?" he asked, his eyes darting back to hers. "Being sorry?"

She swallowed, and her eyes narrowed. "How can you not know?"

He shrugged. "Master did not teach us."

Hesitantly, she replied, "If you are sorry, you regret. You wish... you hadn't done what you did. If you could take it back, as if it had never occurred, you would do so. You would pay any price to right the wrong you committed."

"I caused you pain," Frû said, as if looking for confirmation. The woman nodded. "I am sorry. What... price... must I pay?" As she opened her mouth to answer, he hastily amended, "Please... do not ask for my death. I... am... I..." He faltered, squeezing his eyes shut. It was a hard thing to admit, something he'd not wanted anyone to know. "I am afraid to die," he whispered.

"Then you will never be forgiven, for that is my price." Her eyes held his for several moments.

"But... I saved you," he said, a lump in his throat, tears forming in eyes that had never known despair. "I _saved_ you."

"Why?" she demanded. "Why would you murder my family, then save me? What do you _want_ from me?"

"I want... I want...," he whispered, blinking rapidly as his full eyes spilled over, "I want you to _listen."_

"I do not hear you," she snapped, rising to her feet and striding back to camp.


	37. Some Are Dead and Some Are Living

**Some Are Dead and Some Are Living**

Nûrzgrat stared into the ruined village, arms crossed over his broad chest, waiting. The woman had gone in, carrying the weapon he gave her and a determined look. The stupid boy was as good as dead.

It didn't sit well with him, giving up one of his own like this. But then, a debt was owed, more than could be paid. If Nûrzgrat learned nothing else from Morkoth, he learned about honor. Doing what was right, no matter how much it hurt. If he had to beat it into Frûmâdûrz's skull, he's make _that_ boy learn it, too. Assuming the boy lived through the night.

If she would have been satisfied with _his_ blood, Nûrzgrat would have gladly given it.

A dark shape approached through the gloom, resolving itself into a woman's form. Recognizing her scent, Nûrzgrat frowned.

"What were you doing in there, Sandy?" he asked.

"Keeping Frû alive, mostly," she replied. She held Ghru's blade in her hands, looking it over thoughtfully. "She couldn't do it."

The Uruk leader's shoulders slumped, and he sighed with relief. Sandy looked up at him.

"You were really worried, weren't you?"

"So were you, or you wouldn't have had his back," Nûrzgrat countered.

Sandy shrugged. "She saved me having to answer the question of whether I really would have stopped her." She breathed deeply the fresher, cooler air outside the still smoldering ruins. "I'm glad my guess was right."

"She still in there with him?"

"I think so. She probably won't put up with his bullshit for more than a few seconds, though," Sandy replied. "Have you seen Morkoth? I could use a hug right about now, and I don't really give a crap who sees me get it."

Nûrzgrat snorted. "You mind yourself. We ain't in an Uruk-only camp tonight. Don't wanna scare the natives."

"Pfft. They didn't see you sexy bastards fighting," Sandy grinned. "They'd be crawling all over you if they had." Winking at his surprised look, she sauntered off in search of her mate.

Shaking his head, he turned back toward the village, contemplating going in and... just... making sure the boy was all right. Moments later, another female form appeared.

Nûrzgrat shifted uncomfortably, finding it difficult to look this woman in the eyes. It wasn't so long ago he'd last been on a raid or in a battle against whiteskins. Not such a long time had passed since he last did the things she'd seen happen to her family. Until today, it never occurred to him that they might actually meet anyone who had survived such an encounter, much less remembered the horror of it well enough to identify one of them in particular.

She eyed him warily, halting several feet away. "What do you want?" she asked shakily.

"He still in there?" the Uruk asked awkwardly.

"Yes," she said.

"Did he... say anything?" Nûrzgrat asked.

"He said several things I do not care to repeat," the woman replied stiffly. "He is a pathetic coward. You are welcome to him."

"You're satisfied, then?"

She bowed her head. "No matter what hollow apology he speaks, how much he begs forgiveness, or how much he weeps, they are dead, and they are not coming back. I can tear him to pieces, and it would not make them live again, or undo what was done." Looking up at Nûrzgrat with glistening eyes, she shook her head. "I cannot be satisfied. I can only endure."

"Woman," the Uruk said quietly, "I'm... glad you didn't kill him. You don't wanna be like us. He's a piece of shit, but... he can learn. He ain't like the other one we had."

"I should say I don't," she hissed. "How you can live with yourselves, after all you've done..."

"You think it's easy?" Nûrzgrat growled. "You think we wake up every morning, glad the whole world thinks we're filth that ain't fit to live? Damned if I don't agree with them, sometimes."

The woman blinked in surprise. She tilted her head to the side, and seemed to really see him for the first time. "You sound... almost... regretful."

"I _am_," he snarled. "Those women with us... they made me see things different. Gave me a lot of things to think about."

Hengolwen shuddered, looking away. "Sandy said she... that one of them was her..." She grimaced, unable to even say the word in association with an orc.

Nûrzgrat winced. "You got every right to be sick thinking about it. Don't blame you at all."

"Just the thought of _touching_ one of you..."

He nodded. "It ain't a comforting thought, I know."

Hugging herself, the Rohirrim woman glanced past the Uruk's shoulder into the camp. To her surprise, she saw Sandy leaning companionably against that monstrously huge orc, his arm around her, cheek resting on the top of her head. Seeing them from behind with the fire casting their forms into a dark silhouette, the orc almost looked like a man, the way he was holding her so intimately.

The cry of a delighted child caught her attention, and she saw the smallest orc acting as mount, running wildly with his arms hooked under the knees of a little girl. She was clutching fistfuls of his hair, squealing and laughing as she bounced on his back. The other children and the slightly larger orc were chasing them, shouting encouragement and cheering each time he cleared a log or bush.

She found herself smiling at the absurd sight, and hastily recovered herself. Glancing at the Uruk leader, she realized he'd seen her amusement.

"Those two boys ain't never hurt nobody," he said softly. "I promise you, they'll weep when we go. They think they got friends now." He looked at the ground and kicked a rock bitterly. "Ain't got the heart to tell'em the truth of it."

"Perhaps... I misjudged...," she ventured, but Nûrzgrat shot a look at her.

"No, you didn't," he snapped. "Don't. Just... don't. We've done harm. We've caused pain. Saying we didn't know no better, or _Sharkû_ didn't give us a choice... just excuses. That boy there," he said, pointing at Morkoth sitting so peacefully with his woman, "he proved that. Never liked what we did. Didn't agree with it, hated every minute of it. When he had the strength to endure the consequences, he defied our Master. He said 'no' more times than I can count. And he got punished for it. If all of us had his ideas and his spine... your folk would still be alive, I'll wager."

"And what of the other?" she asked, nodding her head back toward where Frûmâdûrz huddled in the darkness of the village. "You say he can learn. What would you teach him?"

Sighing, Nûrzgrat said, "Morkoth'd be the better teacher. He's the one that gave enough of a shit about the ways of Men to learn them. I know we just killed a bunch of the people who taught him – them Southrons – but he knew what were good lessons and what were bad. Me, I'd just beat his head in til he did what I told him to do. I'm more...," he said, then shuddered, "more _orc_ than any of'em. If it don't do what I say, smack it around til it does. That's the _snaga_ way. Morkoth would probably talk his ear off, and he ain't one for talkin' unless he's got something to say."

"I never understood your kind," Hengolwen said softly. "But I think I am beginning to."

"Well, 'understanding' ain't 'liking,'" Nûrzgrat pointed out. "Nobody's making you like us."

She chuckled. "There is not much chance of that, I'm afraid."

"You, uh, better get to the fire," Nûrzgrat said. "Pretty cold out here, I'm guessing."

"Yes, it is," she agreed. Looking up at the harsh face of the Uruk leader, Hengolwen said, "If I have learned nothing else tonight, it is this: not all orcs are the same." Offering him an uncertain smile, she turned and went to the camp.

Nûrzgrat looked back into the village once more. Not seeing any sign of Frû, he decided to just let the boy stew a bit longer. He headed into the camp.

_Human females and Uruk-hai, sharing a fire, at peace_, Nûrzgrat mused as he scanned the crowd of people around the fire. How the fuck had _that_ happened?

Lost in thought, the Uruk sat down next to one of the Riders, Merol, without realizing it at first. The man had finally dragged himself away from his mate, apparently. Nûrzgrat felt a twinge of jealousy for such a comfort, but shoved it roughly away.

"Nûrzgrat," the man said awkwardly by way of greeting. The Uruk growled low in his throat.

"Spy," he spat without looking over. Being tracked for days by humans without even knowing they were there was not only offensive, it was humiliating. He should have been more wary, should have noticed them before now. It was his _duty_, dammit!

Merol picked up a stick and idly poked the crackling logs. "I understand. But we did what we were ordered to do." He snorted ironically. "Just as you once did, eh?"

"What did you see?" Nûrzgrat snarled. "Plenty to satisfy you, I expect? Watched the boys with their mates, did you?"

Wincing and shuddering, for his recollections were both repulsive and somehow... not, Merol said, "We did not intend... Yes, sometimes, we could not avoid such... things. Mostly, we listened to what was said."

"You could have asked," the leader snapped. "Save you skulking about."

Merol chuckled. "That would not have satisfied Wulfric. He did not believe your words. I confess, we did not either, until we heard them when you were not saying them to _us_."

"Hmph," Nurzgrat grumped.

"He considered just... killing you all," Merol said quietly, and now he felt the Uruk's eyes boring into him. "Some of the men... well, honestly, most of us, believed he crossed the line with Sandy. Thought it was damned humiliating to be told by orcs that we'd done so, as well. There was... resistance. So instead, Haelm and I were told that, if you showed _any_ inclination toward a village, we were to slay you." He tossed the stick into the fire. "I confess, when I saw which village you were headed for, even suspecting _why_ you had turned toward it, I almost..." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "In all truth, my wife, these women, those children... all would be dead, if we had followed orders. Likely, we would be dead also. There were too many to fight; Haelm and I alone could not have managed it." He turned and met Nûrzgrat's yellow eyes. "We owe you a great debt."

"You owe us nothing," Nûrzgrat growled, tearing his eyes away and shifting uncomfortably.

"That is not so," a gentle voice insisted, and Gurvalthen sat on Nûrzgrat's other side. He started slightly, for she did not seem affected by such close proximity to him. But then, she'd slapped him across the face at least twice for his foul mouth while sewing his chest closed, so perhaps she was braver than she looked.

"We live, because you came," the healer said. She pulled a ragged shawl snuggly about her shoulders. "You gave up one of your own for Hengolwen's healing, and she has drawn strength from it."

"Good," Nûrzgrat nodded.

"Your... Frû. He is like a child, in many ways. How old is he?" the healer asked.

"Two summers, I think," Nûrzgrat replied thoughtfully. "Not much older than that."

She stared at him blankly for several moments. "How...? He seems grown!"

"He is," Nûrzgrat said. "Our Master did not waste time on the young," he snarled, gesturing toward the group of them still engaged in their odd games. "I would say he robbed us of such innocence," he muttered absently, a hollow feeling suddenly flaring in his chest at the sight of their play.

"It was a terrible thing to do," Gurvalthen said, her brow puckered crossly.

"So... you know nothing of children?" Merol asked. "You do know what will come of Morkoth and Sandy..."

"Yes, I am well aware," Nûrzgrat snapped.

"Oh my goodness," the healer breathed, covering her mouth with her hand and looking wide-eyed past the Uruk at Merol. The Rider just nodded significantly.

"It ain't forced," the Uruk snarled, embarrassed by the woman's shock. "Morkoth's a good boy."

Now Merol laughed. "No, there was no force applied. I confess, I heard them, the first time... Yes, I agree. He _is_ a good boy."

* * *

><p>"I hope you're happy with yourself," Brianna admonished sternly, arms crossed. Sandy rolled her eyes. After snuggling up with Morkoth for awhile, she found she really needed to talk to her friend about certain things.<p>

"It's not like it was _my_ idea," she replied.

"I'll have a talk with him," the slight woman said, shaking her head. "He had to have believed that woman would kill Frû, given the chance."

"He probably thought he had it coming. I know _I_ did." Sighing, Sandy sat down beside her friend. Ghru had kept himself as far away from the survivors as he possibly could, once the dust settled, and Brianna felt obliged to stay with him. Now he was curled up in the shelter they shared, wrapped in the first blanket he'd had to his name for weeks, snoring softly.

"Would you have let her kill him?"

"Honestly, I want to say _no_. But I guess I just really hoped I was right, and it wouldn't come to that." She fidgeted. "You know," she said, slightly embarrassed, "it was... pretty exciting, in the village."

"I imagine so," Brianna said with little interest.

"I mean... you should have seen them," Sandy pressed. "We've never seen them fight before. It was... _exciting_."

Brianna raised an eyebrow and looked at Sandy's flushed face.

"Am I weird?" she asked, worried. "Seeing him fight... _really_ turned me on. I should have been afraid, but... god dammit, it was _hot_!"

"Um... hm," Brianna said, clearing her throat and nodding her chin slightly. Her eyes were fixed on someone standing behind Sandy. The redhead turned and looked up to see Hengolwen.

"Hi," Sandy said awkwardly, blushing fiercely. The woman was staring at her with disgust.

"Please, join us," Brianna said gently. "It's been a hell of a day, hasn't it?"

Hengolwen began to sit, but hesitated, her eyes suddenly fixed on Ghrulagûrz's sleeping form. Noticing, Brianna reached up and took her arm, guiding her down firmly.

"Honestly, he sleeps like the dead, when he _does_ sleep," she assured her. "He'll never know you were here."

Nodding, the Rohirrim woman sat with them. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Sandy. "You said I was stronger than he. How is it you can say that, when I could not avenge my family?"

"Oh, I'd say you did a pretty good job of it," Sandy said with a dry chuckle. "You made the monster who killed them piss himself, you scared him so badly."

"You're _kidding_," Brianna hissed incredulously.

"Nope," Sandy replied, grinning. "He has to live with _that_ shame."

"Yes," Hengolwen said uneasily. "I suppose he does."

Sobering, the redhead pointed out, "Maybe it's 'Jedi wisdom,' but it's easier to hate than it is to love. Hate has a way of making you... kind of sick inside, you know?"

"True," Brianna nodded. "Are you feeling any different? Now that you've confronted him with his crime, made him understand what he did?"

Hengolwen looked away, thinking. "He is... not what I expected. Not what I remembered." She stared at her hands in her lap. "I thought he would be... fearsome. Cruel. But he... he was... pathetic. And weak. A coward."

"Yeah, that's Frû," Sandy muttered under her breath. Brianna glared at her.

Sighing, Hengolwen shook her head. "I do not know what I feel now. Somewhat... empty."

"Whether he lives or dies, your family is gone, Hengolwen," Brianna said gently. "Nothing will bring them back. Not _his_ death, certainly."

"I know," she said, nodding. "I thought... somehow, I thought it would make everything... better."

"In time, it will be," Brianna allowed. "You go on with your life, and we'll deal with him. Maybe he'll be a better person because of this."

"There's that," Sandy agreed. "And if he doesn't learn a damn thing, I get to kick his ass, right?"

Brianna rolled her eyes.


	38. Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

**Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow**

_March 6, 3019 – Shagrat's orcs in the Tower of Cirith Ungol battle Gorbag's Uruks over the matter of a mithril shirt. All are slain, allowing Sam to rescue Frodo._

"You off to war, then?" Nûrzgrat growled, eying Haelm and Merol suspiciously.

Merol shook his head, glancing over his shoulder at the women and children packing what little could be salvaged into a rickety, scorched, two-wheeled cart. "They'd not make it to the next village. I am still not convinced we are safe from another attack. We turned them back only. More will come."

"You should accompany us as well," Haelm insisted. "We could use the extra swords."

"No," Nûrzgrat said, shaking his head. "Our like wouldn't be welcomed. Not by them, not by... whatever village you find. You just keep movin', fast as you can. How far you gotta go?"

"Ten leagues, southeast," Haelm said thoughtfully. "Give or take. It'll be rough going, but we'll get them there."

"Good," the Uruk said, nodding. "I'll keep the fuckwit in my sights. Don't want him trailin' after you."

"You think he would?" Merol asked. He looked past Nûrzgrat's shoulder at Frûmâdûrz, sitting sullenly on the ground between Morkoth and Ghrulagûrz. The two huge Uruk-hai looked like the legendary stone figures of the Argonath, flanking the smaller Uruk with arms folded over their chests.

"He can try," Nûrzgrat said, then grinned maliciously. "I might let him have a go of it. Ain't had a good chase in awhile. Always let the boys take Nûlkol down. I kind of miss beating the fuck out of someone who needs it."

"We will tell the king of this," Merol said sincerely, and Haelm nodded agreement. "I believe it would... at least it _should_ warm his heart to know that... not all deeds wrought by Saruman had grave consequences."

Humbled, Nûrzgrat ducked his head. "It ain't necessary. We won't be comin' back through here. You're rid of us for good and all."

Merol clapped his hand firmly on the Uruk's shoulder. "I am... _proud_ to have known you, Nûrzgrat."

Nûrzgrat could only nod mutely. He feared if he opened his mouth, something stupid would come out.

* * *

><p>"I do not know for <em>certain,<em> mind you," Gurvalthen warned, "but I understand they are _large_." Scanning Brianna's narrow hips and slight frame, then casting a critical eye on Ghru several yards away, she shook her head. "You won't have an easy time of it, and no mistake."

"And... me?" Sandy asked, trembling slightly.

"You'll likely do well. Or as well as can be expected," the healer said awkwardly. "Remember what I showed you. Repair work is often required, even when the father is a... normal man."

Both women nodded. Gurvalthen looked at them both, then laughed and shook her head. "That you welcome such things... had I not met them myself, I would be horrified. But your... mates... they are good... um... orcs, I suppose."

"They are," Brianna assured her with a smile. "I wouldn't be considering this at all if I didn't care so much for Ghru."

"He is a quiet one, I'll give him that," the healer said thoughtfully. "Never said a word to anyone, stayed in his shelter... I barely recall him even _looking_ at us."

"He has... issues," Sandy said delicately, glancing at Brianna.

"I honestly don't know what came over him," Brie said quietly. "When everyone came out, he just sort of... hid. I'm not sure why. He hasn't said a single word."

Gurvalthen nodded. "He is lucky to have one who cares for him. What little of him I _have_ seen... such pain." The healer shook her head sadly. Shaking herself, she turned her attention to Brianna's arm, newly removed from the splints and bandages. "I think your healer over-estimated the damage. At worse, I would say the bone was cracked, but certainly not broken through. Be easy on it, and it should heal just fine."

"Thank goodness," Brianna said with relief. "Just knowing I'm not going to be useless as hell makes it feel so much better." She experimentally flexed the weakened muscles.

"If you still feel pain, grind some of this into boiling water and drink it," Gurvalthen instructed, handing a small packet of wood. "It's willow bark. Good for pain relief."

Sandy chuckled. "There's your aspirin, Brie-Brie." Turning to the healer, she said, "Take care of Hengolwen, will you?"

"Of course I will," Gurvalthen said. Frowning, she added, "And you take care of Frû."

"Oh, we will," Sandy said, nodding significantly. "If I have to beat him over the head with his own severed arm..."

"No, I mean... listen to him."

Sandy's eyebrows shot up. "_Listen_ to him?"

"I... persuaded Hengolwen to reveal what little he told her, that she was willing to listen to. He is like a selfish little boy, wanting someone to pay attention to him." Smiling, she said, "You have allowed the others to bend your ears. Give him the same courtesy. Perhaps then, he will be healed as they are, hmm?"

"You are a woman after my own heart," Brianna laughed. Sighing, she nodded. "We've been terribly negligent..."

"Hardly," Sandy snorted. "He's an ass, and he's _been_ an ass since day one."

"Maybe so, but he has the same memories the rest of them have," Brie pointed out. Pursing her lips, she added, "You _do_ owe him one, after all."

Sandy rolled her eyes. "Great. Thanks. Nice pass."

"I've already got Nûrzgrat _and_ Ghru; I'd say I'm doing my share."

"_Fine_. I'll... take him. Dammit, rabid dogs in heat are easier to deal with," she groused.

"Do it for Hengolwen," Brianna said firmly. "We don't want him hunting her down."

"Sure. Play the sympathy card."

"My whole profession is based on it," Brie grinned.

"Sandy, go pry that little girl off Razkaar's leg," Nûrzgrat growled as he walked up. "Her mum is afraid to go near them, and she keeps lookin' at me like I'm gonna eat her youngling."

"Well, you do look hungry," she teased, then ducked the Uruk's threatened back-hand. Laughing, she headed over to the distraught pair. None of the children were happy to see Raz and Thakûf go, and the feeling was sadly mutual.

"I'd better see about getting our things packed up," Brianna said quickly, backing away. "You were all very generous. The blankets are _so_ appreciated, you have no idea."

"Tut tut, think nothing of it," Gurvalthen beamed. "We had plenty."

Brianna raised her eyebrows and jerked her head toward Nûrzgrat a couple of times, then turned and scurried off.

"What the fuck?" Nûrzgrat muttered, narrowing his eyes at her retreating form.

"Nûrzgrat," Gurvalthen warned automatically, not even bothering to look at him.

Sighing, the Uruk rolled his eyes. "Woman..."

"When you are far from here, you may speak as you like," the healer interrupted. "I do not wish to hear your coarse tongue." Yet when she turned to look at him, she smiled kindly.

"Females," he groused. "Always keep me guessing."

"What is life without mystery?" she asked. "You have shown me much that I never thought to see. I daresay I will look upon an orc with kinder eyes now."

Turning sharply to her, he fixed Gurvalthen with a piercing glare. "Don't. Do not let your guard down. What you see... if there is a rule, we are the exception. Not all of us have such... influences." He glanced at Brianna, catching her in the very act of quickly looking away. Shaking his head, he growled under his breath, "What the fuck is _wrong_ with her?"

Gurvalthen smiled. "She tells me you seek a mate."

The Uruk leader stiffened, and fixed his eyes on the ground. "Did she."

"She did. I think she hopes you and I...," the healer said, but seeing the increasing agitation in Nûrzgrat's manner, she paused. _I do believe he's blushing!_ she thought with wonder, noting his darkening face.

"It is not expected," he growled tightly, jaw clenched. "It is not why we came to your aid."

"I know," she said gently. "Perhaps, years from now, if we should meet again, I might have a softer opinion. But now... it is too fresh, what has happened here. There are too many ghosts not yet laid to rest. The war goes on, and as you say, others of your kind haven't the tempering you have had. Brianna told me... several things."

Swallowing, he darted a quick look at the healer's face. She looked troubled, unsurprisingly. "What... things?"

"Nothing horrible," she replied hastily. "Oh, she told me you have done horrible things, of course, but she did not give details. Truly, I have heard many... grotesque stories of raids here in the Westfold. Enough to give you nightmares just imagining it, leave alone living through it as Hengolwen has done." Shuddering, she continued, "What she _did_ say is that you were used as one would use a tool or a weapon, with as little say in the matter. It is clear to me that, when you _did_ have a say, you chose not to be what you were."

He nodded, then looked at the healer. She was fair, yet... something wasn't there. The physical need could easily be coaxed forth, but little else. It was the rest that he wanted, he supposed. And Gurvalthen didn't have it. He let himself relax.

"Brianna thought you and I...," he began, then chuckled. "I'd be insulted, if I were you."

"You are a good leader, Nûrzgrat," Gurvalthen said. "A good and wise man. There is likely a woman for you somewhere, just not in Rohan. As I said, the wounds are fresh, the memories long. But I will hold out hope for you, because I believe such things are deserved." Standing on her toes, the healer lightly kissed his dark cheek. Smiling at his shocked look, she patted his arm and walked away.

* * *

><p>Nûrzgrat cuffed Frûmâdûrz's head as they walked, making the Uruk turn around and face forward. "Let her go, boy. You give her nothin' but pain."<p>

"Where are they going?"

"Never you mind," the leader snapped, once again roughing his charge into the correct, forward-facing position.

"I _need_ her!" Frû hissed desperately.

"Got your hand for that," Nûrzgrat snarled. Glancing back, he grimaced. Razkaar was clinging to Sandy and weeping bitterly over the loss of those younglings. Thakûf just marched stone-faced along, staring at the ground in front of him. Probably wouldn't see a tree in his path until he ran into it.

Looking ahead, he knew from Haelm's words that beyond the hills on the near horizon lay Eregion. If they could only _get_ there, then they could angle northward, skirt the mountains, perhaps settle somewhere in the foothills... Somewhere hidden...

"What did I fucking _tell_ you?" he growled, yanking Frû's ear to pull his head around.

* * *

><p>"Are you all right, Ghru?" Brianna asked quietly. He'd angled for the rear guard position, something he hadn't done since Nûlkol was alive.<p>

"I am well," he said stiffly, avoiding her gaze.

"You're a terrible liar," she said. "You've been on edge ever since you came out of the village. What happened in there?"

"I do not wish to speak of it," he snarled. His harsh tone surprised her.

"Was it the fire?" she asked timidly. He shook his head. "Tell me, Ghru."

He walked in silence for several minutes. She almost thought he would keep his secrets, until he spoke. "I found a Southron... trying to rape a woman," he said in an undertone. "She wrested his knife from him, but I slew him before she could." The burned Uruk's face contorted in pain, and his rough voice broke. "She saw me, and... drove the dagger into her heart."

"Ghru," Brie whispered, clutching his arm.

"She thought I would... do the same," he went on. "I did not get the chance to tell her... she was safe. That I wanted to help her." Turning his tear-filled yellow eyes on Brianna, he said, "I never thanked you, Brianna. For giving me a chance."

"You're welcome," she murmured, slipping her arm around his waist. He gripped her about the shoulders firmly.

* * *

><p>They kept on until well after nightfall, and well past the hills marking the end of the Riddermark. Nûrzgrat hadn't wanted to take any chances on Rohan creeping back underneath them during the night. Seeing to the fire, he finally felt like he could breathe, and was nearly chipper as he dug the firepit. Though Gurvalthen's kiss could no longer be felt on his cheek, he imagined the memory of it, or what it meant, at least, would linger for days yet.<p>

Frûmâdûrz sat apart and glowered. His gaze kept going east, where a yellow-haired woman walked further away. To his annoyance, Sandy sat down next to him.

"You all right?"

Baring his teeth, he growled a warning.

"Right. Okay, let's recap," she said. "Who was the _only one_ of all of us who had your back? Hmmm? I was, that's right. Good answer."

"What do you want, you fucking cunt?" he snarled sarcastically.

"Wow, you haven't changed a bit, have you?" she snapped. Sighing, she said, "Okay. I get it. You're still mad at me about the whole... thing. I admit, I was pretty mad at you too."

"I did _nothing_ to you!" he barked. "I never even _touched_ you! And you left me there. All of you fucking _left_ me there! She could've _killed_ me, you bitch!"

"_Could_ have, but didn't," Sandy said quietly. "Frû, I'm... I'm sorry."

"Do you regret what happened?" he snapped. "Do you wish it was not done?"

"Well... no, not _really_..."

"Then you are not _fucking sorry_."

"I'm sorry you took it so hard, then," she replied lamely. "Listen, I..."

"No, _you_ listen," he snarled. "I have _nothing,_ because of you. She goes east, I go west, and I will never fucking see her again. It is _your_ fault this is so."

"All right, that's it," Sandy growled. "You wanna know something? _You_ fucked it up. That's right. Way before this. Maybe it was a while ago, maybe you only followed orders, maybe things are different now, but _the fact remains_ that you _murdered_ her family, you _raped_ her sister, she _saw_ you do it, and there is _no going back_ from that!"

"You know nothing," he snarled, crossing his arms over his chest. "She will see me differently. You see Morkoth. Brianna sees Ghru. She will see me."

"She _has_ seen you, you moron! Now is _not_ the time to start learning by example!" Throwing her hands up in frustration, she almost got up and walked away. Almost. But she counted to ten and took a deep breath. Rubbing her suddenly throbbing forehead, she said evenly, "Frûmâdûrz dear, you have _so_ much to learn, I just have no idea where to begin."


	39. The Puppetmaster Gets Pissed

**The Puppetmaster Gets Pissed**

Mornaquesse swept a table full of herbs, animal parts, and bottles onto the floor in a screaming fury. The crashing and shattering sounds did little to assuage her.

"In their hands!" she shrieked. Yanking a cabinet by the door, she pulled the entire object from the wall, emptying its contents in a wild cacophony of breaking glass and pottery. Heaving great breaths, she looked into the pool once more, as if to remind herself of the disaster that had occurred.

There they were, all eight of them, sitting at their ease around a campfire, chatting about this and that. The big one had not mounted the red-haired woman in a couple of days, and the burned one had not so much as fondled the skinny one even once. Morna had thrown a village _full_ of females at them. She had ensured the women would be weakened by rough treatment, unable to resist a pack of orcs on the hunt. Providing a feast no _normal _orc could possibly decline.

"Curunír!" she railed ineffectually at the ceiling. "You have ruined _all_ with your clumsy meddling! There shall be _no_ soldiers, _no_ victory, _no_ reward!" She slapped her hand across the water, splashing a large amount of it onto the floor. The image disappeared.

Gripping the edge of the basin, she stared off into space, trying to calm herself. _He_ would not be pleased with this news.


	40. Happy Kitty

**Happy Kitty**

"Ghru," Brianna said quietly as the rest of the group settled down for the night. "Come with me, please."

Glancing up warily, he obeyed. He briefly met Nûrzgrat's eyes as he followed her. His leader had nothing to offer, looking just as curious and baffled as Ghru felt.

Not entirely clueless, however. She carried one of their new blankets draped over her arm. The tall Uruk was pretty sure what this was about.

She led him quite a distance from camp. Too far for any smells to be picked up by the others. He swallowed hard. The moon was high and nearly full; he'd be difficult, but not impossible, to see.

"Brianna," he ventured quietly, his growling voice sounding threatening to him in the silence. She didn't answer, nor did she appear to stiffen or falter. His apprehension grew.

When she'd decided they had gone far enough, she halted, then set about spreading the blanket on the grass. She worried the corners to lie flat for several moments before stepping onto it and sitting down. Finally looking up at him, she gently patted the space beside her.

Relieved that clothing removal wasn't required at the moment, Ghru slowly settled down beside her and stared stiffly ahead. He could feel his entire body trembling, could hear the swift pounding of his heart.

"Relax, Ghru," Brianna soothed, taking hold of his hand. "I just want to be alone with you for a little while, that's all."

He nodded, feeling guilty for thinking this was more than it was. "Forgive me," he grunted, bowing his head in shame.

"For what?" she asked, then smiled. "For thinking I meant something else?"

Startled, he looked at her face, but found he couldn't hold her gaze for long. Such thoughts as were running through his head... if she could see the least of them, she'd know about the rest.

"Ghru," she said quietly, "I understand it's... difficult for you. Tell me what's bothering you. I won't hate you for it, I promise."

Eyes darting between her face and his free hand clenched into a fist in his lap, he said in an undertone, "I... hunger for you."

"I know," she whispered. "I feel your eyes on me when you think I'm not looking."

"Forgive me," he repeated thickly and swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

"There is nothing to forgive," Brianna replied. "I have the same... hunger."

He swallowed again. "I will hurt you," he warned. "You are small, and I... I am... I cannot..."

"Ssshhh," she said, slipping her arm about his waist and leaning against his shoulder. "I'm tougher than I look."

"You do not understand," he protested desperately. "I do not know what to do. I do not know how to _not_ hurt you. I do not know if I _can_."

"So you've decided you'll bury your feelings rather than take the chance?" she asked.

He nodded. Her nearness alone was having an affect on his body that he feared and relished at the same time.

"I trust you," she whispered in his ear, her warm breath sending thrills down his spine. He shivered.

"I do not," he replied. _I should go_, he thought. _I should get up now and walk away._ But he couldn't. And now she was easing him back, urging him to lie down on the blanket. He weakly complied with her wishes.

"I've wanted to kiss you again," Brianna said softly. Leaning over him, she caressed his face. "I know you liked it, and I wondered why you didn't want it again."

"I did," he gasped breathlessly. She hovered over him like a second moon, just as beautiful. "I feared what would happen."

"Do you still?"

He nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak.

"It's happening again, isn't it?" she asked, a slight smile curving her lips.

Unbidden, untouched, and unexpected, he could feel, and _see,_ that she was right. His erection was strong and full, just from the simplicity of being cared about. Being wanted. Being with _her._

"I trust you," she repeated, "enough to give you a chance. You must trust _yourself_ at least that much."

"What if... I fail?"

"There is a way," she said carefully, "that might make things...easier."

Surprised, he focused on her words, wrangling his thoughts out of his pants for the moment.

"What way is this?"

"Well, it's sort of... not my usual," she said awkwardly. She tried to hide her discomfort by fiddling with the ties of his shirt. "I'm usually not so... aggressive, I guess."

He furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"We could try... making love... with me on top of you."

Ghru blinked, uncomprehending. In his experience, having another on top of him wasn't the least bit satisfactory, for he was typically facing the other way. How this was supposed to work with her, he had no idea.

"I do not understand," he said carefully. "How...?"

"Like this," she said, then slowly mounted his hips.

Even as his mind registered on one level what she was suggesting (_Ah, yes, __**that**__ would work, most definitely_), the rest took a deep dive over the edge, feeling his member pressed so firmly and completely against the sweet spot between her legs. His breathing quickened, and he grabbed hold of her hips, splaying his fingers across her backside and clutching it firmly.

"I think I could do this," she breathed half to herself, eyes closing for a moment. Ghru's nostrils flared as he picked up the scent of her arousal, so much stronger than that brief flash so many days ago, and only briefly detected at odd intervals since.

"Why now?" Ghru forced himself to ask. After all that had gone on the past couple of days, the bitter reminder of the way things used to be, what the Uruk-hai themselves used to do, he had half expected her and Sandy to reject him and Morkoth completely. For some reason, these crazy women _still_ cared for them. _All_ of them.

"I guess it hit me," Brianna said unsteadily, climbing off him. "I could've lost you at any moment during the fighting."

Sitting up, he grunted with amusement. "You did not think me strong enough?"

"I didn't know what was going on," she reminded him. "I didn't know there were even still those... people in the village, until that first woman came back and told me. Then... I didn't know how many, and none of you had armor..." She took a deep breath to calm her rising tension just remembering how frightened and worried she'd been. "Nûrzgrat seemed hell bent to risk everything just to make a point. Then you all started coming back with those women and children, and you were all pretty beaten up..."

"You were... afraid for me?"

Brianna nodded.

He swallowed hard and blinked. "Master never feared for us. Master never worried about us. He never... wept when we were slaughtered. He... punished us for our failure."

"Your 'Master' was a heartless bastard," she noted. "All you've told me about him... what _any_ of you told me... you're well rid of him, in my opinion. _Fuck_ him, that's what _I_ say."

A laugh erupted briefly from Ghru. It felt good – _very_ good – to laugh again. It wasn't something he'd felt inclined to do for many years.

"So...," she ventured, "do you think... we could try...?"

His body went rigid and he sobered instantly. "You want to make love with me?"

"I thought we might give it a shot," she said shyly. "Just... see how far we get. Whatever's... comfortable."

He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. "You will want... my clothes off," he said miserably.

"The thought had occurred to me," she replied. "Fewer obstacles."

"I am... scarred," he whispered, unable to look at her.

"I know," she said. "I know what happened to you. It doesn't bother me."

"When you first saw me...," he began, but she pressed her fingers to his mouth to shush him.

"I was frightened, and I'd never seen anything like _any_ of you before that moment," she explained. "I thought I was trapped in a nightmare. The constant threat from Nûlkol didn't help matters. But you know what? You made me feel protected. Like you wouldn't let him come near me no matter what. I appreciated it. Really."

"I betrayed your trust," he pointed out bitterly. "I marked you _twice_. I did not learn my lesson after the first time."

"There is that, yes," she said delicately. "But I understand why you did it, both times. And I forgive you. So let's not worry about it, okay?"

"But..."

"Ghru, I'm beginning to think you're stalling," she chided gently. "Come along, now. Take off your clothes." Seeing him flinch, she softened her tone. "Please."

Avoiding her gaze, the Uruk slowly loosened the ties at the neck of his shirt, then peeled the garment off. He waited for the gasp of shock at his mottled flesh, the ropey scars, the sensitive, red-tinged patches of damaged skin. Brianna remained mute, but he didn't take her silence for anything less than revulsion. With no protest voiced, he continued, carefully untying the laces of his breaches. His erection had flagged while they talked, so he wasn't fighting _that_ discomfort, at least. Yet still... he wasn't spared the hideous burns _there_, either. There was no part of his body that didn't loudly proclaim an accident that had long since faded from his waking memory. He shimmied out of his breaches, drew up his knees to hide as much of his body as he could under the circumstances, and waited.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Brianna told him gently. Then she began to disrobe.

He peeked up from the region of his knees and found he couldn't blink or turn away as she slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Again, he felt his member stirring. It was happening so often now, he almost felt... normal. When she set aside the shirt, he had a moment of indecisive reaction: the bite marks around her neck bespoke his shameful behavior, but they also answered a feral need to lay claim to a mate. Shame and longing warred inside him for several moments, until something else completely dissolved the argument.

It was something he'd admired when they were in the pool so long ago, the lacy bra she wore that day. Something so simple, hiding such sweet treasures he'd enjoyed when he could in the breeding pits, but never without having to fight for every handful. It hid her delicious breasts from his sight at the same time it drew his gaze there. Such a beautiful wrapping he'd longed to rip open, to get at the gifts beneath.

And now, Brianna had just discarded it without a thought. His mouth fell open at the sudden revelation of unbound, unfettered, unmarred by the hands of others, perfectly pale and naked breasts. _Her_ breasts. Offered up willingly to _him_. Before he realized what he was doing, his hand was reaching for one.

Startled by his own reaction, he snatched his hand back. She appeared not to notice, for she was now unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans.

He couldn't look at her, when she had discarded the last vestige of her clothing and was laid bare. Always before, where there was a naked female, there were tears, screams, blood, fear... Whenever he was erect, even with no female in sight, it was the same. It came as no surprise to him, not really, that his erection died.

"It's all right, Ghru," Brianna said softly, cupping his face in her hands and lifting his eyes to hers. "Just lie down, and I'll lie down beside you, and we'll hold each other, okay?"

Nodding, he eased himself back and lay there rigidly, making no move. She fit herself between his body and his arm, resting her head on his shoulder, and gently stroked his chest. They lay together for several long minutes, getting used to the new contact of flesh against flesh. His heart thudded against her ear, his hand rested on her hip, and his eyes stared straight up. He quivered like a wound-up spring from head to toe.

_Warm kitty, soft kitty, little ball of fur..._

He was so startled by her voice, so gentle and quiet, he froze. Something stirred in him, though he was certain he'd never heard her sing this song before.

_Sleepy kitty, happy kitty, purr, purr, purr..._

Closing his eyes, Ghru let out a long breath and relaxed. He could feel her moving now, but kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to know what she was looking at, or see the expression on her face when she did. In this way, he could pretend that she found him... less than hideous.

Brianna _was_ looking at him, seeing his body for the first time, and she felt a hint of apprehension. He was very... large. Big hands, big feet, big... everything. Her biggest fear at the moment was being split in two, though she knew that was ridiculous. If Sandy could handle something as big as Morkoth, then surely _she_ would survive Ghru. She wasn't exactly a pre-pubescent teen with a tiny body, though her friend often teased her as if she was. Not everyone came into the world with a solid frame and child-bearing hips. Some of them were born more delicately built.

"Ghru," she said carefully, "I'm a little... nervous."

He opened his eyes and looked up at her. "I understand. I am not... pleasant to look at..."

"No, it's not that," she hastily clarified. "I mean... you're... _really_ big. And I'm fresh out of Astroglide at the moment."

Frowning, he was about to ask what she was talking about when she said, "Never mind. I guess I'll just have to improvise. We'll see how you like _this_, shall we?" And she did the last thing Ghrulagûrz could ever have imagined _her_ doing.

His seemingly inconsistent and unwilling member perked right up the moment it was in her mouth. So many sensations assaulted him at once, he couldn't sort them all out. He dimly felt her hands exploring him, so gently. He felt the slick, wet caress of her tongue, the insistent yet soft pull as she sucked. Raising his hands, he gripped his hair and squeezed his eyes shut, savoring this unexpected pleasure, not daring to touch her lest it stop. Gasping groans erupted from him at intervals. Completely at her mercy, he let her part his legs to kneel between them, shifting herself around. Glancing down, he met her eyes, and for some reason that alone brought about the first orgasm he'd had in twenty years that wasn't forced on him by some other male Uruk.

Brianna breathlessly mounted his hips once more, slowly easing him inside her. The roar of completion he'd had a moment before was immediately followed by a feral growl as her body swallowed him up.

She had to pause for a moment, the taste of him in her mouth, the feel of him inside her. No, not split in two, but filled to capacity.

"Jesus Christ, this is good," she breathed. Leaning forward to rest her hands on his shoulders, she watched his face and began to ride him. He clearly didn't know where to put his hands; one moment on her hips, the next clenching inches from her breasts as if he feared touching them but really wanted to. Impatient, for _she_ wanted his hands there, she grabbed them and filled his palms with soft flesh. "Claws," she warned as he gripped and kneaded her breasts.

She'd wanted him for so long, it seemed, that finally having him sent her over the edge. Her movements quickened as she neared her own peak, and feeling Ghru's second convulsive orgasm brought hers on its heels. Her cries were shameless, though not as loud as Sandy's. Had she thought about it, she would have been mortified if Nûrzgrat came barging in on them at this moment.

When calm finally returned, and she lay exhausted yet undoubtedly pleased in his arms, Ghru felt contented for the first time in his life.


	41. Northward Ho!

**Northward Ho!**

_March 7, 3019 – Sauron's forces assault Lorien and the Woodland Realm from Dol Guldur; Frodo and Sam escape the Tower of Cirith Ungol; the Battle of Pelennor Fields results in the deaths of Theoden King of Rohan and the Witchking of Angmar; Steward Denethor of Gondor casts himself into the flames in his madness and despair_

"Where the fuck did they run off too?" Nûrzgrat grumbled under his breath. "You seen'em yet?"

Sandy shrugged, but smiled as she folded up the blanket she and Morkoth had shared. "I imagine if you gave a holler, they'd come running. I wouldn't suggest going and looking unless you want another embarrassing moment."

"What 'embarrassing'?" he snarled. "_I _wasn't embarrassed." Then he stopped and stared at the redhead. "You think...?"

Leaning close to the leader, Sandy grinned and whispered, "I know an attempt was going to be made. Whether it was successful or not remains to be seen."

"He can't get it up," Nûrzgrat pointed out.

"Oh, yes he can," she chirped happily.

The Uruk looked away. Sandy faltered, her humor fading. "Nûrzgrat? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he snapped quickly, then stomped off. Frowning, Sandy followed him.

"Hey, what's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothin'," he growled, furiously pitching dirt onto the spent coals of their campfire. "Ain't nothin' the matter."

"Are you... jealous or something?" she asked awkwardly.

Whirling toward her with bared teeth, the Uruk leader hissed under his breath, "_No_, I ain't fuckin' jealous. I'm _happy_. Don't I fucking _look_ happy?"

"Um... no, not really," she replied, recoiling from his unexpectedly fierce anger. "Do you want to... you know... talk about it?"

"For _once_," he snarled, worrying a pain between his eyes, "can I be an _orc_ without one'uh you fucking females runnin' after me, wantin' to know what I'm thinkin'?"

"Sorry," Sandy whimpered. "I just thought... I just wanted to help. That's all."

"Go help your fucking mate, then," he barked loudly. "And leave me _the fuck alone!_"

Shocked, Sandy staggered back a few steps as if he'd struck her. Then she turned around abruptly and went to find Morkoth.

He was busy stuffing the blanket into their pack. "Leave him be," Morkoth said without looking up.

"What's wrong with him?"

Sighing, the big Uruk stopped what he was doing and looked across the camp at the leader growling at everyone and herding the younglings like an angry warg.

"He wants a mate," Morkoth said. "I do not think he is jealous of Ghru, or me, but of what we _have_."

"Jesus, if all we need to do to settle him down is get him laid...," Sandy joked, but immediately stifled her amusement at Morkoth's glare.

"You do not understand what your presence has done to us, do you?"

"I... guess I don't." Sitting down beside him, she hugged her knees and said, "What did we do to you guys?"

"You have woken the human in us," he said simply. "Nûrzgrat does not believe he has as much of their blood as I do, but perhaps he has more than he thinks. Always, there is war within us between the orc and the human sides. Master only wanted _some_ of the human to win that battle, the parts he wanted to use. Anything else was buried."

"And we... dug it up, so to speak," she said.

"Yes," Morkoth nodded. "We do not know how to resolve the differences between both sides, any more than we can live alongside humans. There is constant... conflict."

"Are you conflicted, Morkoth?"

He took a shuddering breath and nodded. "Perhaps it was an accident in my making, but I have _always_ felt the human side strongly. I rebelled often. But not always. The orc always won in the end, because Master strengthened it. Since I have been free of his cursed presence, the human has been stronger. Because _you_ strengthen it."

"I don't control you, though," Sandy pointed out.

"Not in the same way, no," he acknowledged. "But you do. Or I should say, I want to be more human so I might please you. Perhaps that is not 'control' as you think of it."

"I'm not... really comfortable with that idea," she said, chewing her bottom lip anxiously. "I like you the way you are. I don't want you to think you have to be something... different... just to please me."

"It is this difference that _does_ please you," he insisted. "If I did not temper my instincts, you would leave me. Likely slay me."

"What do your.. instincts tell you to do, when we're together?" Sandy whispered, not sure she wanted to know. _It's a package deal_, she thought to herself. _I get Morkoth in his entirety, not just the bits and pieces he thinks I'll like. It's all or nothing._

He bowed his head, a disgusted scowl on his face. "Many things. For one, I would mark you, as Ghrulagûrz did Brianna. To claim you as mine, partly, but also... to taste your... blood. It is... a strong desire. Sometimes _very_ strong."

"Oh," she replied quietly. "So... you _do_ want to... eat me?"

Sighing with impatience, he shook his head. "No. It is not the same. Blood is life. Without it, there is no life. Giving it is... it is a gift of great value. There is meaning in the giving."

"That doesn't sound much like a human practice _I've_ ever heard of," she said. "I thought you were only interested in 'men's ways'?"

"It is not a human way," he agreed. "It is a _snaga_ way. I did not _just_ talk to Men. I have felt this need before, and I asked."

Her brows arched with interest. "Really? When did you feel it?"

"My first time in the breeding pits," he snarled in an undertone. "Many feelings... desires... needs... are woken when we..." He rubbed his eyes. "I am sorry. I should not... You do not want to hear..."

"It's okay," she said softly. "Go ahead."

"There are only so many things Master could teach us with his foul magic," Morkoth said in a low voice. "Language, basic skills. Other things... we had to _do_ to learn. He wanted us to... truly terrify humans, and he knew that... if we... harmed their women... So he sent us to the pits to... learn how." He shuddered, unable to look her in the eyes. "It is done when... mating. That is when the desire is strongest."

"I see," she breathed. It seemed an age ago that he told her Ghru gave Brie a 'mating scar' in the pool. Every time Morkoth had hovered around her neck, nuzzling, mouthing, grazing with his teeth, suddenly flooded through her mind.

When Brie was 'marked,' Sandy recalled threatening Morkoth with death if he did the same to her. But that was then...

"Does it... hurt?" she asked uncertainly. It sure as hell looked like it hurt when it happened to Brie, but maybe... maybe Ghru didn't do it right.

"I do not know," the Uruk replied. "It hurt the females in the pits. It hurt Brianna when Ghrulagûrz did it... I suspect it would hurt if I did it to you."

"Why do the... _snaga_ orcs do it, then?"

"Our hide is tougher than yours," he said reasonably. "Our teeth sharper. We do not... tear the flesh, just... pierce it."

"You mean, you're not _supposed_ to tear, right?" she asked cautiously.

Morkoth nodded miserably. "You know of Nûrzgrat's mistake."

"Brie told me," she confirmed. "He didn't say what he did, but I think I can guess."

"He tore her throat out," he said dully. "He did not mean to, I am certain. We have these... desires, but... Master did not want us 'mixing' with the _snaga_."

"So... no one teaches you how to do it right," she supplied, and he nodded. "But Nûrzgrat said he learned _snaga_ ways..."

"He was _told_, not _shown_," Morkoth clarified. "The _snaga_ did not want their females around us, likely for good reason. So we never saw how they treated them. Being _told_ about biting the mate does not tell us _how_ it is done."

"No, I guess it doesn't," she agreed, then chuckled. At his curious look, she said, "It... sort of reminds me of... hickeys."

"What?"

"A hickey," she said carefully. "It's what humans do in my world. I don't know about here. Mostly done by young people, actually. Anyway, you... sort of clamp your mouth over the skin and... suck really hard. It raises a bruise."

His brows rose a little, then he grimaced. "I do not think I could... come so close and not bite."

"You're probably right," she said, feeling almost disappointed. It had been a very long time since anyone had given her a hickey, and there was a part of her that missed the intimacy of it. There was also the pride associated with such marks, that she barely remembered from her teen years. They told all your friends, and anyone else who saw them, that you had a boyfriend, and you were pretty enough to be boldly marked. Maybe they also said you were kind of slutty for letting him do it, but _mostly_ it was a declaration of a shared intimacy. Something to be at least a _little_ proud of. And maybe a holdover behavior from an earlier time.

"We're leavin'!" Nurzgrat suddenly bellowed in a thunderous voice. "Anybody hidin' in the bushes is gonna have to catch up!" Without waiting for anyone to join him, the leader stomped away.

Sighing, Sandy rose and brushed off her jeans. Morkoth stood and stretched.

"Are you _sure_ we should just leave him alone?" she asked as they joined the other Uruk-hai.

"Why isn't Brie coddling the son of a bitch?" Frûmâdûrz grumbled. His eyes scanned the group. "Hey, where _are_ those two?"

"I did not see anything," Thakûf replied firmly, shaking his head.

Leering, Frû asked, "What did you not see?"

"I did not see Brie mount Ghru," he said seriously.

Frû almost fell over himself laughing. Sandy tried very hard to be cross with the young Uruk, but it just wasn't working, and she giggled behind her hand. Morkoth chuckled and shook his head.

Razkaar looked at them in confusion. "Does she ride him like a horse?"

Sandy lost it. Howling with laughter, she stumbled helplessly to her hands and knees. Morkoth and Fru were likewise incapacitated with mirth. Razkaar and Thakûf just looked at one another and shrugged.

It didn't help matters when Brie and Ghru came huffing up behind at a run, their clothing in disarray and their hair mussed.

"Uh... what did we miss?" Brie asked breathlessly, glancing around the others. Her gaze settled on the only two not incoherent in the group. "What's going on?"

Curiously tilting his head to the side, Razkaar asked, "I do not understand. All I said was..."

"Okay, that's enough," Sandy cut in, waving her hand to quiet the runt. "Settle down, guys." Though she was having trouble getting her own amusement under control, Sandy didn't want what was undoubtedly a very serious, special moment between Brie and Ghru to be ridiculed. "Calm down. Come on. Shut _up_, Frû," she snapped when the Uruk kept laughing at the clueless expressions on their faces.

"I ain't stoppin'!" Nûrzgrat's furious voice floated back to them.

"I'll tell you later," Sandy muttered to Brie, grabbing her elbow and steering her around to follow the cranky leader. "Nûrzgrat's going to need a talking to later on. He's a little... put out by the whole... Never mind. Later."

* * *

><p>By the time the sun was setting, all could tell Nûrzgrat had begun heading in a northerly direction. The plains began to give way to gently rolling hills. The oppressive cloud cover in the east was absent here, having reached the extent of its influence miles behind them.<p>

Nûrzgrat hadn't spoken a word to anyone the entire day, except to snarl at them to mind their own fucking business and leave him the fuck alone. Now that they were making camp for the night, he made sure someone was watching their camp, and someone else was watching Frû, then he stormed off into the darkness on his own, glad to be rid of their eyes on him and their questions plaguing him all the time.

Sitting heavily on the ground, he rested his arms on his raised knees and stared at nothing.

He should be happy. Both women were mating with his boys. Sooner or later, he should be seeing them swell up with young. The race _wasn't_ finished; there was hope. They'd be cared for like he and the others never were. They'd never know the kind of life he'd always known. They'd have choices.

Grimacing, Nûrzgrat blinked rapidly as vile tears filled his eyes and spilled over. No, they wouldn't. _This_ wasn't a life. Not like those Rohirrim people knew: a village, someplace permanent to live in and defend. A _home_. What was he thinking?

And for him to want to bring _another_ female into this wretched existence, another one forced to run and hide, another to bear unwanted young... All because he selfishly ached for such comforts as Morkoth and Ghru enjoyed? Someone to be close at hand, to touch, to talk with, laugh with...

It was a crushing weight to bear. Always the observer of others' joy, never partaking, for it was not safe for him to do so. And there were only two women in their group, both claimed by others. Any thought he may have had that Brie would abandon Ghru and come to him were destroyed. What did it matter that even _Brie_ didn't have what he was searching for? Not that he knew what that was, exactly. He just knew that, when he saw it, he would know it.

Nûrzgrat picked up the sound of footsteps and Sandy's scent before she reached him, and he hastily scrubbed the weakling's tears from his face. He didn't look at her as she sat beside him and hugged her knees. They sat silently together for several long minutes.

"Brie wanted to come talk to you, but I thought it would be better if she didn't," Sandy finally said quietly. "At least... for now."

"I ain't jealous, woman," he snarled.

"Maybe," she replied. "I suspect you're feeling lonely, though. For one, Brie always talked with you, and maybe now that she and Ghru... well, maybe you think she won't have time for you anymore?"

Shrugging, the Uruk leader growled, "Maybe I wanna fuck her myself. I'll bet everybody's thinkin' that."

"I don't really believe it," she said softly. "I don't think you're the type."

He snorted. "Whattayou know? I've done a lot of fuckin' awful things. Why _wouldn't_ I try to take what Ghru's got?"

"Because," Sandy replied, "you're Nûrzgrat. And Nûrzgrat doesn't. He's a good guy. He takes care of us. Makes sure we're safe and sound. Keeps us going. Hell, I've even seen him being _nice_ every once in awhile."

"He is trying to fool you," Nûrzgrat growled with little heat. "I've heard he's a filthy bastard."

"Nah," she said, shaking her head and smiling. "That's just a front. He wants everyone to _think_ he's mean. What he's really doing is making us feel safe. Like if anything was threatening us... even a whole company of soldiers... he'd walk right up to them and spit in their eye for us."

He felt a constriction forming in his throat that made swallowing difficult. "He is a fool. They are fools who follow him. Look what he has done: He wants things he cannot have, and he has led them to a dead end. He doesn't know where the fuck to go, what the fuck to do."

"Who says he can't?" she asked mildly. "What is it that he wants? Maybe what he wants isn't all that impossible to get."

"He wants peace," Nûrzgrat snarled. "A safe place for his folk to live and... raise young. Maybe... he wants... his own..." Faltering, he ground his jaw angrily as tears threatened once more. It was bad enough when he was alone; unacceptable in front of anyone. He didn't care _who_ witnessed his weakness. It was still a weakness.

"I think he'll get everything he wants some day," Sandy said confidently. "He's got people who care about him. They'll make sure he gets it. All of it." Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. "Now maybe he'll pull himself together and join us by the fire. Frû and Morkoth brought in a deer and they're fighting over the heart. Somebody's going to have to step in and knock heads in a minute." Grimacing, she added, "Personally, I think it's damn gross, but they insist it's the best part."

Grunting a laugh, Nûrzgrat sighed. "I'll be along in a bit. Just... give me a couple minutes."

"Sure." She patted his knee as she rose. "You can come to us when you need anything. You don't have to suffer alone."

He took a deep breath and nodded.


	42. The Answer to the Ultimate Question

**The Answer to the Ultimate Question**

_March 8, 3019 – The Battle of the Pelennor Fields has concluded; the Captains of the West debate which direction to take in the War_

"Don't tell me," Brianna sighed. "Reality just set in?"

"I thought it hit me days ago," Sandy said quietly. "Guess I was wrong."

They'd gone off for some 'girl talk' again, making sure nobody followed. While Frû didn't pay them much mind, even less than usual these days, there was still Thakûf to worry about. He seemed to be going through the Uruk-hai equivalent of puberty, the way he kept trying to get a peek at them. Brie wasn't at all amused when she learned he'd spied on her and Ghru the night before. The information didn't spoil the experience in her mind, but it certainly made her feel very uncomfortable around the young Uruk.

Being asked if next time, it would be Ghru's turn to ride _her_ hadn't helped matters. She thought maybe, on some level, he thought the couple were 'playing' as he and Raz had played with the village's children. That didn't really reduce the humiliation of the question, though.

Shaking herself, she turned her attention to the sullen woman beside her. "Did you two have another argument about... stuff?"

"No," Sandy replied.

"Aunt Flo pack her bags and leave?"

Sighing, Sandy nodded. "I'm afraid to tell him."

Surprised, Brie asked, "Why? I thought... Is something wrong?"

Sandy shook her head. "I'm just... really... I don't know." She shrugged lamely. "Raz asked if he'd get to play with our kids. It just... hit me. Really hard."

"I thought we agreed that we were willing to take on motherhood for them...," Brie began, but Sandy shook her head vigorously.

"That's not the problem," the redhead said miserably. "Well, it's _sort of_ the problem. You know my mom died when I was little. I never really knew her."

"You were about five, right?"

"Yeah. So it was just me and dad, forever and always," Sandy went on. "He wasn't just a _dad_, he was a _friend_. He listened to all my sob stories about boys, he taught me how to tie my shoes, he taught me how to roller skate... he made damn sure Alex didn't lay another finger on his little girl..." A sob broke free, and Sandy raised a hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut and grimacing with the effort to speak through the tears. "I'll never be able to tell him... that he's a granddad. Never."

Brie put an arm around her friend's shoulders and drew her close. The same thoughts began running through her own mind.

"Brie, they think we're _dead_," Sandy said shakily. "Maybe they don't even get _that_ closure. Our bodies are _here_. They've got... _noth__ing_. We can't tell them we're okay. That... that we're... sort of... happy. And doing fine."

Nodding, Brie squeezed tighter. "I know. I've tried not to think about it, but that just makes it worse, doesn't it?"

"What do you think they'd say? Your parents?"

Gazing off into space, Brie replied, "I think... my dad would freak out completely." She laughed humorlessly. "Mom would faint if she saw him."

"Yeah," Sandy chuckled, wiping her eyes. "Dad would definitely lose it. Probably assume he was Alex 2.0, just because of what he looks like."

"And I would tell him," Brie said firmly, "that he has never _ever_ done a thing to hurt you."

"I'd want to tell your folks the same thing," Sandy said awkwardly. "But... he has."

Brie nodded sadly. "He has."

"Did he... when you two finally... you know," Sandy said awkwardly. Brie shook her head. "Good. I'd have to kick his ass, and I'm just not in the mood right now."

"He'll be so relieved," Brie replied wryly. "So... you're not telling Morkoth because you don't want to have a child you can't tell your dad about? Is that it?"

"Stupid, huh?" Sandy sighed, then laughed. "I owe him one, too. Make up sex. He had to take a rain check."

Brie burst out laughing. "Yes, you owe him. I forgot about that. The last couple of days... Damn, the last couple of _weeks..._ Do you realize we've only known them for maybe two weeks? I've counted the days, and that's all it's been, give or take."

Frowning, Sandy looked at her friend. "Two weeks? And we're... humping orcs like there's no tomorrow? What the hell?"

"My _best_ guess is that we've been under a lot of stress," Brie observed, drawing another laugh from Sandy. Shrugging, she went on, "You know how people get in high-stress situations. Sort of... clingy. Undoubtedly, that's what happened to us. We... clung."

"Hmph. And not a single can of Static Guard to be had," Sandy laughed. "No wonder we got all up in their business so quickly. Well, me, anyway. I was checking out the terrain long before I actually set up camp."

"Morkoth was always your type," Brie reassured her. "Tall, strong, sure of himself, authoritative even if he doesn't really flaunt it... You've always looked for those qualities in a man."

"Yeah, but... he's not a man, as he's always been quick to point out," Sandy replied ruefully. "What about you? I've only seen you with wimps like Arthur. What does _Ghru_ have that you like?" Leering, she elbowed Brie in the ribs. "Apart from the obvious, of course."

Rolling her eyes, Brie tried to hide her smile. "Well, there _is_ his... what did you call it? 'Delicious smorgasbord of personal trauma'?" She laughed quietly to herself and shook her head. "He needs me, I guess. It feels good to be needed."

"Do you need _him_?" Sandy asked.

Brie closed her eyes and thought about it. When he was gone, she'd felt bereft, lost and alone. Perhaps at the time, she assumed she was feeling the loss of Sandy as well, but who was she kidding? Sandy, as far as she knew, was fine. She was with other humans. Brie could tell herself that nothing was going to happen to her friend. Ghru, however, was in terrible danger, in terrible pain, and she didn't know where he was. He might have been killed at any moment while she waited, not knowing... Worry and pain their families must be experiencing right now.

She swallowed hard. "I don't think I have an answer. I just _do_."

"That'll work, I think," Sandy replied softly.

"You're right," Brie whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "Our folks don't know. They'll _never_ know. We're going to have families of our own, and they... they won't be part of it."

The women clung to one another, each desperate to hold something, _someone_, from home.

* * *

><p>"Wish we had a fucking map," Nûrzgrat growled. Where once he'd fixed his gaze to the east, longing for home at the same time dreading any pursuit that might drag them back there, the Uruk leader now looked to the north. There hadn't been much activity west of Rohan that he'd taken part in. Others had gone into Dunland, where they now stood, and treated with the different groups who would eventually swear fealty to <em>Sharkû<em>. He didn't know the land, and wanted to get as far away from his former Master's cock-sucking slaves as he possibly could.

"Keep close to the foothills," Morkoth suggested. "I remember...," the tall Uruk said, closing his eyes for a moment. "I saw once..." Deflating, he shook his head. "It was long ago. An old map, I think. We will be in Dunland for quite some time. Many miles."

"_Fuck!_" Nûrzgrat roared. He whirled and began to pace angrily, hands clutching his waist. "Out of one pile of shit, straight into another."

Looking back over the camp, he noted particularly the location of Frû, furiously skinning a pair of rabbits while Ghru sat with his back against a tree, legs extended and crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest, yellow eyes watching him work. Across from them, Razkaar was trying to talk Thakûf into something. Begging him, in fact. The older Uruk just kept turning his back on the runt and trying to ignore him.

"Wonder what's goin' on there?" he mused half to himself. Morkoth glanced over.

"I do not know," Morkoth sighed. "They have been like this ever since..." He looked significantly at Nûrzgrat.

"Hmph," the leader grunted. "Ever since Ghru and Brie, eh? Saw them, did he?"

Morkoth nodded. "It is getting difficult to keep him away," he growled. "I do not want to harm the boy, but... I do not want him watching."

"I don't blame you," Nûrzgrat agreed. "Wouldn't want eyes on _me_ either. Not that... Never mind." He scowled and looked away. "Ain't had to deal with somethin' like this. We come out all grown, all done. Reminds me of... some _snaga_ told me once. When they're young. They start... feelin' things." He shook his head. "Sounded like a bunch of shit to me, but maybe there's somethin' to it. I'll ask Brianna. She probably knows about these things."

"You are not angry with her?"

The Uruk leader shot him a suspicious look, then relaxed and shook his head. "No. I wasn't ever... angry. Not at her. _Or_ Ghru. I don't wanna talk about it."

Morkoth shrugged. After being drawn into a slightly uncomfortable discussion with Ghru recently, he wasn't too keen on a second 'chat' with Nûrzgrat on a similar subject. Talk of feelings and such was best done with the females, not among the males. It was... unsettling. Felt odd.

"What're we gonna do about Frû, eh?" Nûrzgrat asked. "He still wants to run off and catch that woman up. I promised them I'd keep him outta their country. Ain't sure I'll manage it." He chuckled bitterly. "Gotta sleep some time."

"You have rope now, do you?" Morkoth asked, raising an eyebrow. Nûrzgrat laughed.

"Yeah, I got rope. Was savin' it for Ghru," he said. "Turned out not to need it, eh?"

"No," Morkoth agreed, nodding and grinning. "It was not needed."

* * *

><p>"Come on, Thak," Razkaar whined, pulling lightly on the Uruk's sleeve. "I'll hide and you come find me. Like Brun and Ilsa taught us."<p>

"Go ahead and hide," Thakûf growled quietly. "I'll find you when I'm good and ready."

Raz snorted crossly. "Why you being mad at me? I didn't do nothin'."

"Don't wanna play games," the older Uruk replied.

"You waitin' for the mating to start?" Raz snapped. "You're always watchin' them. Don't know why that's so interesting."

"You're just a kid," Thakûf said. "You don't know nothin'."

"I know they don't like you watchin'," Raz pointed out. "Morkoth kicked your ass for it. Ghru finds out, you'll get a worse kickin', I think."

"I just... like to watch," Thakûf grumbled. "Don't know why."

"Does it... make you wanna mate or something?" Raz asked awkwardly. He wasn't sure what mating was, to be honest. He'd heard it mentioned, and knew that was what Morkoth and Sandy, and now Ghru and Brie, went off alone to do, but what actually happened was a mystery.

"No, fuckwit," Thakûf snarled. "Makes me wanna jerk off."

Razkaar had seen Thakûf please himself countless times, but never felt any stirrings to do the same. He honestly didn't understand what the purpose of it was. What he _did_ know was that now Thakûf went off by himself to do it, where he used to just... do it. Without caring who was around.

"Why you gotta do that?" Raz asked. "What's it for?"

"Feels good," Thakûf muttered.

"Really?"

The older Uruk nodded. "It's like mating, only without the female."

Raz's eyebrows shot up. "How is it like mating? Never seen mating."

Thakûf grunted a laugh. "You even know what mating _is_?"

Raz shook his head, eyes wide and eager for the mystery to be revealed.

"You know what your cock is, right?" Thakûf asked skeptically.

"Yes," Raz snapped impatiently, giving the elder Uruk a withering look. "What about it?"

"Cock goes inside," Thakûf replied, shrugging. "Simple."

Raz frowned. "Inside what?"

"Inside the female," he said, as if it were obvious.

"Where?"

"Uh...," Thakûf faltered, then rallied. "Between their legs. There's... probably... a hole or something. I don't know."

Snorting in disbelief, Raz shook his head. "That's a bunch of shit. They don't have no holes."

"All I know is, I see their cocks goin' into them," Thakûf insisted. "And the females like it. A _lot_."

"So... they ain't... hurtin' them?"

"Shit, no," Thakûf laughed. "Sandy keeps yellin' things like 'oh my god' and 'jesus fuckin' christ.' Brie mated with Ghru a few times and said the same kinda things. Didn't look to _me_ like they were hurtin' any."

Raz stared into the fire for a few silent minutes, hugging his knees. "Why don't _I_ wanna do it?"

"Fuck, I don't know," Thakûf sighed. "I always have. It's just... I dunno. Worse now, I guess. Can't stop thinkin' about it."

"You think... maybe... you'll get to mate?"

Thakûf shrugged. "Who with? I go anywhere near Sandy or Brie, and I'm dead. Never seen anyone else, except those people from the village." The Uruk tilted his head to the side and looked wistfully into the smoke curling lazily up into the afternoon sky. "Did you see that one female? She didn't wanna be around us, didn't wanna talk to us. Stayed with her mum. She was real pretty. Ilsa told me her name was Hilda." He looked down at his hands, the claws that so fascinated the other kids because not a single one of them had any. "She said Hilda got... hurt. By one of us. I think... I think an orc mated with her. But she didn't want him to."

"He shouldn't've done that," Razkaar said sternly.

Thakûf shook his head. "No. He shouldn't have."


	43. Go Ask Your Father

**Go Ask Your Father**

_March 9, 3019 – Shagrat arrives at Barad-dûr with Frodo's mithril shirt and Sam's sword; the Battle of Dale begins_

"_No_," Nûrzgrat snapped, then turned and stomped off. Rolling her eyes, Brianna trailed after him.

"It _needs_ to be you, Nûrzgrat," she insisted. "He looks up to you."

"He shouldn't," the leader snarled. "There ain't nothin' I gotta say on the matter."

"You know what's right," she pointed out. "I know you do. _Tell him_. Or he'll just do what _he_ thinks is right. What his... I don't know, _instincts_ tell him to do. Is that what you want?"

Nûrzgrat halted and winced. No. That was definitely _not_ what he wanted.

"Do you want him asking Frû for pointers on dealing with it?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and arching her eyebrows.

"_Fuck_, no," Nûrzgrat growled. "Might as well yank Nûlkol back from the dead."

"Then _talk_ to him, or I swear, I'll tie him to you tonight," Brie threatened crossly. "You've already got Frû on a leash. Do you want Thakûf, too?"

"You females are more trouble than you're worth," he grumbled. "Wouldn't have _none_ of these problems if you..."

"_Yes_, you would," she bit back. "Sandy and I being here only gives him... an outlet for his feelings. He'd _still_ have them, even without us. _You_ pulled him out of the ground, so _you're_ responsible for him."

"I don't know nothin' about this... pubbery shit."

"_Puberty_. And _everyone_ goes through it."

"_We_ didn't!" he roared, making Brianna flinch slightly. "The _snaga_ orcs told me our bodies are somethin' like... I can't remember, maybe the size of a sixteen-year-old human when we come out. This shit is _done_. We _ain't_ been anything but... _this_ since we first drew breath!"

"Didn't you... feel things that were... new?" she asked uncertainly.

"What the fuck _wasn't_ new?" He spread his hands out helplessly. "_Everything_ was new. We had all _kinds_ of shit runnin' through us, and you know what _Sharkû_ did? He put fucking swords in our hands and pointed us at villages. He said, 'Go do what you _feel_ like doin'.' So we did." He could feel it coming on, one of those waves of despair and disgust for what they'd been, what they'd _done_.

Turning away, he gritted his teeth and willed himself to calm, clenching his fists and huffing out his breath rapidly.

"Nûrzgrat," Brianna said quietly, "you can't let him flounder on his own. Not if you don't want him to turn out like you did."

The Uruk nearly crumpled as if her words were a physical blow. He wanted so badly to believe they had a _choice_, that Morkoth's resistance wasn't isolated, that once freed of that hideous yoke, they were truly _free_. Easing himself down onto a fallen log, he stared at the ground. "We didn't have nobody tellin' us what was right, what was wrong. It shoulda been our Master. He shoulda told us. Not... used us."

Brianna sat beside him. "I know. And thank god he's not here. _You_ are. You who have seen so much, changed _so much_ since those days. Thakûf is going through something that humans have dealt with forever, and apparently so have those... other orcs. I understand it's not something you, personally, have been through, but... well, in a way, you _have_. You've experienced confusion, fear, lust, shame, embarrassment... and because your Master _sucked_, he gave you only one way to deal with all that. You have a chance to help Thakûf deal with it in a _better_ way."

"I won't know what to say," he grumbled.

"You'll figure it out," she replied reassuringly. Turning to go, she paused and looked over her shoulder. "If you keep bottling it up, you'll explode."

"Bottle _what_ up?" he asked, surprised.

"You know what."

* * *

><p>"Boy, c'mere," Nûrzgrat growled. Thakûf's eyes widened with alarm.<p>

"I didn't do nothin'!" he whimpered, shaking his head swiftly. Nûrzgrat glowered with annoyance.

"I _know_ you didn't," he snapped. "Nobody's gone off on their own yet. _You're_ comin' with _me_." Turning, the leader headed off into the gloom of early evening. Thakûf nervously followed, keeping his head down and his senses alert.

This was probably about the spying, the young Uruk thought. Ghru caught him at it last night, and pounded the crap out of him, just like Raz warned would happen. Brianna had to step in the middle of it to keep the giant Uruk from killing him.

But he got to see... it was good. Ghru hadn't mounted Brie yet, until last night, and it took him a long time of slow moving to reach that point where speed and vigor were almost desperately required to achieve completion. There were many kisses, Thakûf recalled, feeling his body start to respond warmly. Kisses and touches, so gentle and slow; everything was so _slow_. Not like when Sandy and Morkoth mated. Those two were _very_ exciting to watch, always trying something new and... limber. But Morkoth wouldn't so much as hug Sandy until he did a wide circuit, checking the bushes and even up in the trees for the little spy.

Of course, it had been days since he saw them together. Good thing Ghru and Brie chose now to start.

If the leader was stepping in to give him a proper flogging, he wouldn't be walking back to camp on his own tonight. Not after Nûrzgrat got through with him. Knowing he'd angered _this_ Uruk made it even worse.

Shuffling along behind his elder in miserable silence, Thakûf dawdled, kicking stones and wincing at every imagined torment awaiting him.

"Pick it up, boy!" Nûrzgrat roared. "Ain't got all night!"

Flinching, the young Uruk sprinted the last few yards, but halted just out of reach. He wasn't completely stupid.

Nûrzgrat wasn't quite sure how to approach this 'talk.' He paced in front of the trembling youngling, sometimes glancing at him with a scowl.

"Got one thing to say to you, boy," the leader growled, holding up a clawed finger. "Stop fucking watching them. It ends _now_. I ever hear of you sneaking a look, I'll bust your ass myself. Understand?"

Thakûf nodded quickly, his head down.

Now that he'd gotten that out of the way, Nûrzgrat sighed. "I suppose you wanna know why, don't you?" he asked, his voice a good deal less angry than before. Now the boy looked up at him with surprise and curiosity. The leader took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sit down."

Once they were settled side-by-side on the same fallen log Nûrzgrat had slumped on earlier that day, he decided to just start and see where it took him.

"Morkoth and Ghru... they don't want you doin' what... our kind do," he said awkwardly.

"What do we do?" Thakûf whispered, eyes wide.

Nûrzgrat grimaced. Why was it so much harder telling Thakûf than it was telling Brianna? "We... do shit in packs," he blurted. "One gets somethin' to eat, others are gonna wanna have a bit of it. Same thing with... females. They don't want you thinkin' you can... have a turn."

Thakûf gave him a horrified look. "But... Sandy and Brie... they don't want _me_. Why would I do that?"

"You... don't... want...," Nûrzgrat stammered incredulously. He'd expected acknowledgment. Having to explain _why_ they wouldn't share. It never occurred to him that Thakûf might not _want_ it. "All right. What, uh... so... you seen'em at it. Uh... Whattayou _wanna_ do when you see that?"

Blinking uncertainly, he mumbled, "Just... jerk off. Is it wrong?"

"No," the elder Uruk said quickly, shaking his head. "No, it ain't wrong to... wanna do that."

"I'm supposed to wanna mate, though? Even if... Sandy and Brie don't wanna?"

"No," Nûrzgrat growled sternly. "That ain't matin' if they don't want you doin' it. That's rape."

"Oh," Thakuf said, nodding. Then he frowned. "Are you saying we... rape?"

"_Used_ to," his elder said pointedly. "This lot... _us_... we don't do that shit anymore."

"But... you _did_." The young Uruk stared at his hands, slowly turning them palm up and curling the fingers so he could look at those claws that were so _wrong_. Not like the kids' fingers. "You did rape. You hurt females... like Hilda. You _did_."

"Yeah," Nûrzgrat acknowledged quietly, bowing his head. He'd never felt so incredibly small and... ashamed. "I ain't proud of it."

"How could you do that?"

Nûrzgrat glanced up at the young Uruk and winced. Those eyes would never look at him with admiration again, he realized. It felt like a knife through the chest.

"Boy," he said gruffly, "truth is, we did what we were told. Nobody said it was wrong. _Sharkû_ didn't tell us that... hurtin' females was bad. He had his plans, and he made us so we could... help him get'em done. Part of that was goin' out and doin' what those Dunlendings did in the village back there. Burnin' it down, killin' the people. Even... even kids. And rapin' the females." He swallowed hard. "We did bad things, Thakûf. Terrible things. Shit that gives me nightmares sometimes."

"But... I've never seen any of you do that."

The leader turned to face Thakûf, forcing himself to meet the boy's eyes. "You ain't seen it cause we don't do it no more. When we left Isengard, our Master ain't the only pile of shit we left behind. It took me a bit to settle on what we _were_ gonna do, but now I got it, and we're stickin' to it. We are _Uruk-hai_. But we ain't _fightin'_ Uruk-hai no more. We're _livin'_ Uruk-hai. We go back to what we were... they ain't gonna _let_ us live."

"So... we don't do rape?"

"No, we don't," Nûrzgrat nodded firmly.

Thakûf sighed with relief.

"You know," the elder Uruk mused, "I can't tell you what it means. You not... headin' down that road. Not even _wantin_' to. It's like... somethin' worked right for once. Gettin' you out before _Sharkû_ got his hooks into you. Maybe you'll be more like... well... more like men than orcs, eh?"

"Don't wanna be an orc," Thakûf muttered, staring at his hands again. "If I wasn't, Hilda would've talked to me. She wouldn't've been scared." Droplets fell from the young Uruk's eyes, splashing on the dark skin.

"I know," Nûrzgrat growled softly. "Females ain't gonna fall out of the air and land on us no more. But that healer... you know she kissed me, didn't you?"

Thakûf looked up at the leader with a hopeful expression. "Really?"

Nûrzgrat nodded, then pointed at his cheek. "Right here. Cause... she thought I was a good... man."


	44. Caught RedHanded

**Caught Red-Handed**

Under normal circumstances, Mornaquesse wouldn't dare. Her instructions, however, were millenia old, and the situation had changed.

_**He** must guide now_, she thought desperately, hopefully. _The way is no longer clear._

Special ingredients were gathered by her agents in Arda. The deeds of her servants in taking them would surely incur the wrath of both Elves and Men if discovered. Such measures were required to delve into this particular prison.

Standing before her basin, she sprinkled ash from the ruins of Angband; dripped thick blood from babes stolen from their mothers' breasts, first Elves, then Orcs, then Men; trickled venom from the last living spawn of Ungoliant; poured blood from the heart of the only surviving son of Fëanor, taken unawares while still lamenting his long-forgotten deeds.

These liquids she mixed with water from the Isen, befouled with dead Uruk-hai in the wake of Isengard's destruction, stirred with a broken phalange plucked from a wing of the shattered carcass of Durin's Bane, eldest of servants and most mourned. All the while, the dark tunnels of Mornaquesse's refuge echoed with her chanting voice.

The fouled waters turned from murky to solid black, and seemed to writhe and pulsate as she felt her way carefully. He would not be pleased by her boldness, but she felt there was little choice now.

"Master," she whispered, slowly passing her hand over the surface, careful not to touch. "Master, hear me."

_Mornaquesse_, a voice sounded in her mind, faint at first, but growing in strength as the bond intensified. _You risk much._

"Master," she breathed, overtaken with ecstasy at hearing his voice after so many thousands of years. "Dear Master."

_What do you want?_ His voice was irritable, impatient.

Shaking herself, Mornaquesse swallowed hard and sought to quickly explain. "Forgive me, Master. I would not disturb you but for the urgency of the matter."

_Were my orders unclear?_ he snapped. _Would you undo all with your carelessness? Manwë will learn of this breach!_

"It cannot be helped, Master," Mornaquesse insisted. "You bade me restore the Uruk-hai of Curunír once his hand was removed, but... there is a... problem."

_What...'problem'? They are my children. No amount of meddling by idiot maiar may undo that._

Mornaquesse bristled at the veiled insult, but made no protest. "Many attempts have been made, Master, and all seem to be abysmal failures."

_Show me_.

Swallowing, the _maia_ touched one finger to the surface of the pool, sending gentle ripples through the dark liquid. An image began to form.

_Six Uruk-hai of varying sizes sitting about a campfire. Two human females resting intimately in the embrace of the largest ones. An atmosphere of calm._

Feeling a sense of startlement from her Master, Mornaquesse touched the surface once more.

_A lone Uruk lying in a forest on the bank of a river, wrapped in the contented embrace of a blond woman, her naked pale flesh contrasting with his dark skin. He is watching the sunlight flash upon the leaves above him, and his arm is about her body, holding her close. Her hand rests upon his breast, and she wears a slight smile as she sleeps._

She could feel the anger building, and her finger shook as she changed the image.

_A great hall in a fortress, pallets lined up in rows. Upon each pallet lies an Uruk, wounded and grievously despairing. Human females with yellow hair bustle about, seeing to their needs, feeding them, tending their hurts, whispering encouragements to them. More than a few of the females touch the faces of the Uruk-hai with tenderness beyond what is required for healing, and their patients press their cheeks into the gentle hands. Standing apart from the injured, a woman is held in the arms of a tall Uruk, who strokes her hair and murmurs comfort in her ear. Watching her charges cared for at last, she is weak with relief._

Again, she touched the pool, and another horrible vision appeared.

_In a light-washed hall of Men, statuesque images of long-dead kings line the center walkway. Olórin strides forth, dressed all in white as befitting his new position in the Order. At his heels are a Hobbit with curling hair and a worried countenance, a dark-haired woman, and an Uruk in full armor. They approach a dais where a grieving Steward sits holding the splintered remains of a battle horn in his lap. While angry words are exchanged between istar and Man, the woman reaches out and clasps the Uruk's hand. They exchange an affectionate look, as though the ramblings of old men and wizards are of little consequence._

"That is what is transpiring at this general time, within a few months," she explained. "See how it will be in a year, two years, three, four..." Faltering, Mornaquesse touched the surface with two fingers this time.

_On the left side of the pool, a woman sits in an ornate wooden chair, shifting occasionally as the bulk of her middle renders her uncomfortable. The door of the chamber opens, and an Uruk wearing a smith's apron enters. Weariness is upon his brow, yet he has enough left within him to kiss her lips tenderly and press a prideful hand to her swollen belly._

_To the right, the unmistakable form of Celeborn walks beneath the fading mallorn trees of Lothlórien, conversing with a tall Uruk as though they are old friends. Riding upon the shoulders of the Uruk is a very young child that is clearly his by a human female. He holds the hands of the little girl and chuckles as her delight at such a high perch sends her feet kicking joyously against her da's chest._

"These are divergent time streams, it is true, Master," Mornaquesse explained. "Only two do not involve females fetched from a distant time or place, yet the outcomes all seem... disturbingly similar."

_They mate and bear young. Explain to me what the problem is._

"The problem, Master, is that they are embraced by Men," she insisted. "Not just these... misguided, mad women. Most are drawing the Uruk-hai into the communities in which they live or have settled, negotiating peace between Men and Uruk-hai. These... ruined beasts of Curunír's have been too closely bred with Men, Master. They _think_ as Men do; _feel_ as Men do. Because of this... it is easy for them to... assimilate."

She swallowed hard. The rock walls of her scrying chamber seemed to be closing in.

_What are you saying?_

"I fear, Master," Mornaquesse whispered, too afraid to speak loudly, terrified to speak at all, "that, because of the wiles of these females, the Uruk-hai, at least, will be no ally in the Final Battle."

She closed her eyes, waiting for the explosion to come. But the voice was amused, and _not_ her Master's.

"So _this_ is what it was all about, was it?" Tulkas smirked. Detaching himself from where he leaned against the rocky entryway, he shook his head, a smile on his face. "I confess, I never imagined Vairë's paranoia would reveal such base treachery."


	45. Six Uruks and a Little Lady

**Six Uruks and a Little Lady**

_March 10, 3019 - The combined armies under the leadership of Aragorn son of Arathorn march forth from Minas Tirith toward Mordor; Frodo and Sam, disguised as orcs, are swept along with Sauron's forces on the Plains of Gorgoroth, heading toward the Black Gates_

"Fuck," Nûrzgrat grumbled, staring down the hill toward the tiny settlement. "Not another one."

"At least it is not on fire," Morkoth said reasonably.

Snorting, the leader turned away. "Get the swords."

"What are you doing?" Sandy asked warily. She wasn't particularly happy about the look on Nûrzgrat's face.

"We need things," he growled. "Maybe... we can work somethin' out. Trade... somethin'. I don't know."

Relaxing with relief, she nodded. "Be careful, all right?"

Nûrzgrat rolled his eyes, and grudgingly nodded. If he had his way, they'd just leave the Dunlendings alone, ignore them, give them a wide berth. But their clothes were hanging off them in rags, they had nothing to cook food in, no shoes... Sighing, he tested the weight of his sword for a moment. He hoped it wouldn't come to blows, but these were Dunlendings. Bloodthirsty beasts to rival his own kind. Why else would _Sharkû_ have allied with them? They gave their women freely to his Master as well. What could such Men value, if not their own people?

Eying Frû, Ghru, and Morkoth critically, he tried to see them as the folk down in the village below them would. No, naught but threat there. There just wasn't any way to look... peaceful, when you had so much orc in you it bled out your pores. "Listen to me, boys," he growled fiercely. "We go in, we _ask_. Nice as we can. They say no, we move on. Are we clear on that? No stealin', no killin'." Glaring particularly at Frû, he snapped, "And no rapin'. You lay one fucking finger on a female, and I gut you right in front of'em. Understand?"

"Don't want one'uh theirs," Frû snarled through clenched teeth. "Had my fill of'em."

"Good. Let's go." Muttering under his breath, Nûrzgrat led the way down the hill toward the settlement in the distance.

Sandy and Brie watched them depart, twin looks of worry on their faces.

"Why ain't we goin' down there?" Razkaar asked. Sandy absently dropped an arm around his shoulders.

"These are... well, allies of Saruman," she replied. "They may or may not be friendly. We just don't know."

"What if... they got kids?" he asked forlornly.

"I don't think now is the time for making friends, Raz," she said apologetically. "At least not until we know what we're dealing with. Come on. I'll teach you how to play my harmonica, okay?"

Distracted by the opportunity to make those wonderful sounds himself, Razkaar followed Sandy back to the campfire eagerly.

Brie remained behind, watching the dark smudges of the Uruk-hai march into whatever awaited them below. She hugged herself against a chill breeze. The sun hadn't risen high enough over the mountains to the east of them to warm their campsite yet.

After a few minutes, she realized Thakûf was standing next to her, likewise watching the males fade with distance. He glanced up and met her gaze, then quickly looked away, his cheeks darkening.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"I'm not angry with you, Thakûf," she said quietly. "Not anymore, at least." Smiling a little, she turned to him. "Nûrzgrat talked to you?"

The young Uruk nodded. "He said... not to watch no more. Cause... orcs rape." He winced, as if the newly-learned word were the most repugnant thing he'd ever heard.

"Men do too," she replied. He looked at her with surprise. "It... happened to me. Back home, where I come from."

Thakuf looked utterly incredulous. He'd seen her with the Riders, standing up to them so bravely. She hadn't seemed afraid of them, as Hilda was of him. How could she have suffered by a man's hand, and not cower as Hilda did?

"You ain't... afraid of men?" he asked.

"I was," she sighed, "for a long time. A few years. But I learned that... they don't _all_ do that. Only a few."

"Nûrzgrat said he done it," he snarled with disgust.

"Yes, I know he has," she replied. "So has Ghru. And Morkoth. Frû certainly has. Of course, Nûlkol did. _He_ didn't even care whether his victim was male or female."

"That why you killed him? Cause... he did rape?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry I did that in front of you, but not sorry I did it, if that makes sense."

Thakûf's face contorted with pain all of a sudden. "That's what he was wantin' me to do." His breathing began to quicken as full realization came. "I didn't know." Looking up at Brie desperately, he cried, "He wanted me to get Ghru alone. He wanted me to hold'im. Said he'd... he'd let me do somethin' fun if I helped him."

"But you said no."

Deflating, as if his defiance no longer held the importance it seemed to that day, he whimpered, "He did it anyway, didn't he?"

"Yes. He did it anyway." Taking a deep breath, Brie put her arm around the Uruk's shoulders. "I'm glad you didn't help him. I might have forgiven you for making such a mistake, but Ghru probably wouldn't."

"I just... didn't trust'im," Thakûf said quietly. "I like Ghru. I didn't wanna hurt'im." Looking up at Brie, he said, "He never smiled before you came. Now he smiles."

"He's learning to trust," she said. "No one that's left has ever hurt him. I think... he'll be okay."

"But... he did rape," the Uruk insisted. "Why don't you... why ain't you afraid of him?"

"I was, when I first got here, remember?" she said mildly. "I was terrified of him. But he didn't do that to me. _I_ learned to trust _him_."

Thakûf pondered her words. Still, it was devastating to find out that his elders had done the things that so hurt Hilda that she couldn't even _look_ at him...

"So... you got better, then?" he asked. "You didn't fear men?"

"After a time, no," she said kindly. "Why are you asking so many questions about this, Thakûf?"

"Nûrzgrat did rape," he said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice. "I thought... he was good. The best of us. But he ain't."

"Sometimes, we only turn out well after we've gone through painful things," she told him. "Nûrzgrat isn't proud of what he did; none of them are. I think... Sandy and I being part of the group... made him see women differently, in a way he'd never thought of us before. Now, he remembers what he did, and sees it happening to _us_ in his mind. It's different, when you see someone as a person, an equal, even a friend. I don't think he'll ever, _ever_ hurt another woman."

Nodding, Thakûf turned toward the campfire, but stopped. Without looking at her, he asked quietly, "We're different, though, ain't we? Hilda ain't gonna stop bein' scared of us. Is she?"

Brie shook her head sadly. "I don't think she will, no."

Thakûf winced and dragged himself over to sit next to Razkaar, who was blowing tuneless raspberries through the harmonica as hard as he could and laughing wildly.

* * *

><p>The setting sun was casting long shadows on the ground when Sandy suddenly raised her head. Her eyes met Brie's, equally curious and a little frightened. The young Uruk-hai with them were also looking around, ears pricked to the strange sound.<p>

"Is that... a child crying?" Sandy asked hesitantly. Standing up, she looked westward, and saw the four Uruk males slowly walking towards camp. They were laden with bulky packs, but something was odd. Nûrzgrat's burden was moving, and apparently wailing pitifully.

"What the hell?" Brie breathed as she rose to stand by her friend.

As they neared, the women realized that Nûrzgrat held a tiny child. It was clinging to him, reaching over his shoulder and grasping at the air, crying and sometimes screaming. All four Uruk-hai were grim-faced and silent.

"I know _I_ didn't put 'kids' on the shopping list," Sandy snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's this about?"

"Sandy!" Brie admonished, rushing forward. When she took the child from Nûrzgrat, she realized it was a little girl, no more than two years old, with distinctive features.

"Oh my god," she whispered, holding the distraught girl close. Apparently sensing a sympathetic adult, she clung tightly to Brie and held on for dear life. "She's..."

"I know!" Nûrzgrat roared, flinging his pack down furiously and stomping around the camp, kicking things. "We asked for _food_, and they gave us _that_!"

"You can't be serious!"Sandy cried, going to Brie and rubbing the child's back.

"It is true," Morkoth growled, dropping his sack wearily. "When they saw us, they rushed their females and children into shelters. Hiding them from us." He sat heavily on the ground and rubbed his forehead.

"The men met us," Ghru continued, his breath coming in angry gasps. "Said they'd paid their tribute to Saruman, and we couldn't have no more of their females. Said they'd fight us if they had to."

"There were only a few of them," Morkoth said. "We could easily have bested them. They knew this."

"Offered us anything, if we'd leave'em be." Ghru grimaced. "They _threw_ things to us, like getting near us would get'em dirty."

"I asked if they had food to spare," Nûrzgrat broke in. "I ain't had bread in so long..." He looked wistful for a moment, then snarled, "They handed over the child. Said she was one of _ours_, and we were welcome to her. 'Not much meat on'er,' they said. They were fucking _starving_ her, cause her mum died birthin' her, and she come about from... from one of us rapin' her mum." He spat on the ground and resumed his pacing.

Razkaar and Thakûf slowly approached, staring at the sniffling little girl. Her big yellow eyes flicked between them as she peered out through Brie's hair. Her head rested on the woman's shoulder, forehead burrowed into Brie's neck.

"What's her name?" Raz asked.

"Somethin' filthy you don't wanna know," Nûrzgrat snarled.

"Can I give her a name?" Razkaar looked hopefully from Brie to Nûrzgrat.

"She ain't a _pet_!" the leader roared. Raz recoiled as if he'd been struck.

"Nûrzgrat," Brie warned, then looked at Raz. "What did you have in mind, Raz?"

"Ilsa," he replied hesitantly. "She's pretty like Ilsa. Just... our kinda pretty."

"I think that would be a wonderful name. Thank you, Razkaar," Brie said, smiling at him. He grinned back.

"I want us the fuck outta here before those sons of whores decide they wanna get the drop on us in the night," Nûrzgrat growled. "Pack up our shit and move out _now_. Off your ass, Frû! Move it!"

Herding them like a rabid sheepdog, Nûrzgrat pushed his charges along until his fury finally dissipated and he could think clearly. The child got passed from one set of arms to another as each carrier grew tired. Every time he looked at the little girl, he felt a mix of anger and relief. There were so many things to be angry about in this child: how she was made, what happened when she was born, how she was treated, how easily she was discarded as if she were an animal... He didn't want Brie and Sandy to know she slept among the dogs of the village and battled them for scraps.

What relieved him was that she even _existed_. He'd never in his life seen a female of their kind. As far as he'd known, they weren't even possible. Surely there was hope if they could make females.


	46. Sugar and Spice

**Sugar and Spice**

It was well past the middle of the night when Nûrzgrat finally gave in to the complaints and let them stop to make camp. Sitting out of everyone's way, he held the sleeping girl in his arms while Frû and Morkoth built up a fire. Brie sat down beside him, Sandy in front. Both women seemed unable to keep their hands off the child, smoothing her matted hair, rubbing her back, murmuring comforts when the girl whimpered. Razkaar wanted to be part of things, and hovered nervously. Thakûf stared at the leader, sitting some distance away, but attentive to all that was happening. Nûrzgrat didn't have the time or inclination to wonder what was going through the young Uruk's mind.

Ghru sat apart from all of them, arms folded over his upraised knees, staring at nothing.

"She'll be cold tonight," Brie said quietly, plucking at the ragged shift the child wore. If she didn't know better, she'd swear it was Dobby's pillowcase.

"I can keep her warm," Raz offered, darting a cautious look at Nûrzgrat. The leader flared for a moment, then settled.

"You... do that," he said awkwardly.

Brie eyed the youngest Uruk. Physically, he looked to be roughly ten years old, if he were a human. It was quite possible he wasn't even that old, emotionally, the way Saruman used such unnatural means to 'ripen' the Uruk-hai for emergence as adults. Thakûf by contrast appeared closer to thirteen; the blossoming of his sexual awareness seemed to bear that out. All in all, though she was no expert, Brie felt relatively safe in letting Raz spend time with the girl. At least for now.

"I'm sure it'll be all right, Nûrzgrat," she said.

"Someone in that village _must_ have taken care of her at least a _little_," Brie murmured. "I mean, she's _here_. She made it out of infancy. Maybe... her mother's relatives... somebody..." She shrugged helplessly.

Sandy suddenly leaned forward and gently took Ilsa's little hand. She was clutching Nûrzgrat's shirt front, but her grip was easily broken.

"Holy crap," she breathed, looking at the girl's fingers. Sandy caught Nûrzgrat's eye for only a moment before the leader looked away, anger creasing his brow once more.

"Yeah," he snarled. "They pulled'em out. Likely to keep her from hurtin' any of _them_." _Musta been hard, fightin' against the dogs without a weapon_, he thought bitterly.

Ilsa's claws, a typical trait of her orcish heritage, were missing. The unprotected ends of her fingers were raw and rough.

"Those sons of bitches," Sandy breathed. She almost didn't notice Morkoth settling in behind her, until he put an arm around her and leaned close.

"It is good we found her," he said. "I think... they would not put up with her much longer."

Nûrzgrat shook his head. "Didn't look that way, no."

Frû dropped to the ground in the only free space left around the leader. He tilted his head, looking closely at the girl for the first time. "I've never seen nothing like her." Reaching over, he pushed a bit of her hair off her forehead so he could see her face better. "She sure is pretty. Wonder why?"

Looking down at the peaceful little face, Nûrzgrat felt a lump form in his throat. Indeed, she was very pretty. She had a smooth complexion, though darker by far than the Dunlendings. There was no mistaking her Uruk parentage, but somehow her bone structure wasn't as heavy or brutish. It seemed that all the ugliness was reserved for the males.

Brie looked past the cluster of Uruk-hai and saw Ghru staring into the flames of the roaring campfire. He seemed to be taking the villagers' reaction harder than the others. Standing, she went over to sit next to him.

They sat together for several minutes, then Ghru spoke in low tones, his gravelly voice sounding pained.

"I did not know," he muttered. "I thought they gave them up. Didn't know we_ took_ them."

"Their women?"

Ghru nodded miserably. "Master took many of them from Rohan. We raided, and brought them back. Some came from as far away as Gondor. Raids, always. We thought... _I_ thought, Dunland was our ally. That part of the deal was... their females." He shook his head slowly. "They were given a choice. Give up their females, or lose the whole village. Females, whelps, old, young... _We_ carried out those orders. _We_ did it."

"Do you know if... any villages were...," she asked hesitantly.

He shrugged hopelessly. "I do not know. Likely. I knew some Uruks who would have been more than happy to take the females and burn the village down, whether given cause to or not. Knew others who would have honored the deal. Taken the females and let the rest live. Or burned the village down if they did not give in. I did not realize... not until _you_... what we were taking from them."

Brie curled her arm around his and rested her head on his shoulder. "Did you ever come here and... do that?"

Shaking his head, he leaned his cheek against her hair. "None of _us_ did. I would not be surprised if Nûlkol did. He would have been the kind to burn the village down, _then_ demand the females. Likely rape each one in front of her mate before he left. _Pushdug_ filth." Ghru spat on the ground and glowered at the fire.

Snuggling closer, Brie said softly, "I'm so glad Nûrzgrat brought her back. She needs people around her who care about her, and I swear, it doesn't look like she had that."

"She didn't," Ghru confirmed. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grimaced. "Please tell me, Brianna... tell me that... if I make a whelp in you... you will not... not..."

"I promise, Ghru," she whispered, "your child will be the most precious thing in the world to me."

* * *

><p>Crickets made the only sounds as Morkoth leaned back on one hand, caressing Sandy's naked form with the other. She lay on their blanket face down, head pillowed on her arms. In the light of a small campfire, he could see the contented smile on her face.<p>

_Yes_, he mused, _make-up sex is __**very**__ good_.

After Nûrzgrat had his chat with Thakûf, it seemed that the threat of being watched had been lifted. Morkoth made sure, of course, but it seemed that the boy had been properly chastised. The trees and bushes were empty, and he could not pick up Thakûf's scent in the immediate area.

Without a spy, the huge Uruk even felt at ease enough to light a small fire for their comfort, and he was glad of it. Not since the pool had he seen the beautiful images on her body, and now he could see them without her underclothes or darkness obscuring the best parts.

He ran his clawed hand down her left leg, following the sinuous form of a dragon, or so she had claimed. He had never seen a creature like it, and could only take her word for what it was. Its arms and legs clung to her limb adoringly, and he now saw that it had two heads. One he was seeing at the moment, seeming to rest sleepily upon her left buttock, a thin forked tongue snaking out and trailing down to flick enticingly at the darkness between her legs. The other he knew to rest upon her left hip, its eager tongue aiming for the part of her he enjoyed the most when they were together. He could not blame the dragon for desiring such a feast.

That was not all: behind her left shoulder was a dragon's head, mouth agape, with sharp teeth digging into her flesh. A few droplets of blood were painted, as if its teeth pierced her flesh. It was this one that drove him the most wild, for he felt jealous of the creature's liberties.

But the colors... the big dragon down her leg was nearly irridescent, shifting among many hues. Tracing the outline with one finger, he felt his desire renewing.

Then it was gone, and he sighed with disappointment. The matter of the girl-child weighed heavily on all of them. Morkoth had managed to avoid thinking about the breeding pits and what happened there, though little Ilsa was a stark reminder. He'd pushed it away, hidden it, buried it, but it kept wanting to surface, and he felt a wave of grief hit him now.

Turning away from Sandy, he tried to master himself.

"Morkoth?" she said softly. He could hear her rising, felt her hands on his shoulders. She embraced him, and normally he would have been able to blot out everything else and focus on the press of her bare breasts against his scarred back, but not tonight.

"Is something wrong?"

"You do not want to hear," he muttered. His eyes began to fill. Very few things had ever dragged tears from him. He could only remember twice: that day in the pits, and when he thought he'd lost Sandy forever.

"Yes, I do," she said, rubbing his chest. He grabbed her wrist and held her hand still. Sighing, she squeezed his shoulders. "Whatever's hurting you, tell me. Does it have to do with Ilsa?"

Morkoth nodded. It had _everything_ to do with Ilsa. And little.

"You know... I was chosen to breed," he said, his voice thick and shaking slightly. He felt her nod, her cheek pressed to his ear. "Master sometimes... let us see our whelps come out, before he put'em in the ground. If he... favored us. Was a _treat_."

Sandy stiffened. She'd wondered about this part, how the babies got from the mothers into the ground. She had a feeling it wouldn't be pretty. She was not disappointed.

"He... Master tore them free," he snarled. "Ripped those females' bellies open and dragged out the whelp. They screamed, and bled, and jerked... _Snaga_ sewed them back up. None had more than three, four scars... It was all they could take."

He felt her shudder against him, but she didn't speak. He was glad he couldn't see her face.

"I saw one come out once," he continued. "The mother... barely made it. Almost didn't. She had... two scars, I think. Master looked over the whelp... and... he said... it was female." His voice broke, and he covered his face with his hands. Sandy gripped him more tightly, horror building. "He said... he was _disappointed_," Morkoth sobbed. "Said... he didn't waste his resources on females. Told the _snaga_ to... to sew her back up. She'd given males before, so he could still... still use her."

"Shit," Sandy breathed, squeezing her eyes shut.

"He told me... females were worthless to him, and he...," the Uruk faltered. How could he tell her this? "He offered her to me. Said... she was only good for... for... eating. He _expected_ me to eat my child!" Morkoth forced himself to say. He knew what she would ask next: did he do it? Even if she didn't say it, she was likely thinking it.

"I didn't," he snarled through clenched teeth, as if she really had voiced such a repulsive question. "I defied him. He handed her off to some _snaga_, and made me watch... watch them tear..." He couldn't go on. Morkoth dissolved into tears that rarely afflicted him, just as he had on that day, watching his child torn to pieces and consumed by his Master's slaves.

Perhaps it was that event, more than any other, that urged his Master to address his defiance with lashing at every opportunity. Trying to break his will, mold him into what the wizard wanted and expected of an Uruk. Maybe he wanted to toughen the flawed Uruk, or weaken his resolve, make him obedient. Whatever the reasoning, Morkoth endured one of the worst punishments of his young life when he dared to weep in front of his Master. Dared to call his Master a fucking _pushdug_ and spit on him for what he'd done.

Sandy thought the worst had happened to Ghru, that being used nearly as a toilet for the relief of cruel Uruk-hai males was the most awful thing imaginable. This was worse.

"Morkoth," she breathed, hanging on to him tightly as he wept, "it won't happen again. I promise you that. Boy, girl... it doesn't matter. We'll adore it, just the same. Our child will be treasured. Nobody will hurt it. I _promise_."


	47. A Few Therapeutic Breakout Sessions

**A Few Therapeutic Breakout Sessions**

_March 11, 3019 – Having escaped the Orcs, Frodo and Sam embark on the final leg of their journey to Mount Doom_

Morkoth and Sandy rolled up their blankets and were about to rejoin the others when Morkoth stopped her.

"Do not tell Nûrzgrat," he said. "He has enough pain."

She looked at him incredulously. "He doesn't _know_? How could he _miss_ something like that?"

Shrugging, he shouldered their burden. "Those who it affected could not speak of it. I told no one. Any others... likely did what was expected of them, without a thought."

Feeling a little queasy, Sandy turned away with a shudder.

"Don't worry," she said quietly. "I don't think I even want to remember you told me, much less go telling anyone else about it."

The rest of the group was already breaking camp around the big fire when Morkoth and Sandy joined them. Sandy smiled wanly at Razkaar, sitting across from Ilsa and teaching her a stick game the Rohirrim children taught him.

"Everything's split up," Nûrzgrat said, pointing at four large packs and three smaller ones. "We all gotta carry somethin'."

"What's in them?" Brie asked curiously.

"Things we'll need," the leader replied, but didn't seem inclined to elaborate. Shouldering one of the large packs, he turned to the others. "Ain't got all day. Grab a pack and move yer asses." Then he turned and marched off.

"Yessir," Sandy muttered, snapping a mocking salute. "What's his damn hurry?"

"He don't wanna be in Dunland," Frû growled. Sighing, he picked up his own pack. "Can't say I blame him. The whole place stinks."

"You get the small ones," Ghru said, helping Brie with hers. "Better move. Nûrzgrat's in a rush."

Sandy lifted one and settled it in place. "Hey, Raz, you might want to concede or declare a winner. We're off. Wouldn't want to make Nûrzgrat any more grumpy than he is."

Once everyone had their packs in place and had started off, there wasn't much talking. Brie and Sandy walked together, keeping an eye on Ilsa. She started out riding piggy-back on Razkaar, but now was sitting on Morkoth's shoulders, so high off the ground she nervously wrapped both arms around his forehead and locked her ankles around his throat. Before him, she snuggled in Nûrzgrat's arms for at least five miles.

"How long do you want to let this go on?" Sandy whispered.

"Let them spoil her rotten for a day or two," Brie replied. "Poor thing's had such a rough time... We'll step in before it gets too bad, don't worry."

"We need to teach her our language," Sandy pointed out. "She still needs a bath in a major way, too."

"And as soon as we hit a river, she's going in, I promise," Brie chuckled. "We could all use one. The boys probably more than us, by now."

"Yeah," Sandy said, then giggled. "I think it would turn out a lot different from the _last_ time we had a bath with them, huh?"

Lifting her nose in the air in mock superiority, Brie said archly, "I am not about to share a pool with you and Morkoth again. I suspect I'd go blind from the shocking displays."

"I shock _you_? Good lord, Brie, _I_ haven't even gone down on Morkoth!" Laughing at her friend's blush, Sandy said, "It's always the quiet ones, I swear."

"Necessity is the mother of invention, now shut up."

* * *

><p>Nûrzgrat consented to camp on the banks of a wide, somewhat shallow river that night. Trees grew close to the water, so their fire was relatively well hidden. Still, the leader was nervous. He wouldn't be able to relax until they crossed <em>this<em> border as well.

Then what? Another broad country to cross, another border to seek, never finding a place they could settle in, someplace they'd be welcomed or just not shot on sight? Sighing, he approached Thakûf.

"Boy," he said gruffly, slightly annoyed by the young Uruk's flinch. "Come along. Got some huntin' to do. Time you learned how."

"Okay," Thakûf replied sullenly, getting up and trailing after the leader like he was off to his own execution.

Leaving Ilsa in Brie's hands, Sandy sidled up to Frûmadûrz.

"Hey. Let's talk," she said briskly. He glared at her, but followed her to the edge of camp. Here, they could talk within sight, but perhaps not hearing, of the others.

"Sit," she said, seating herself on the mossy forest floor under a large tree. Rolling his eyes, Frû joined her, but kept himself turned to the side, not facing her. Leaning against the tree, he drew up his knees and rested his elbows on them.

"So...," she began awkwardly, taking a deep breath. "What, uh... what's on your mind, Frû?"

He slowly turned his head and scowled at her. "What the fuck kinda question is that?"

"Look, I'm trying to help you, all right?" she snapped. "You said you wanted somebody to listen to you, so I'm listening. Start talking. I'm all ears."

Narrowing his eyes with distrust, he growled and looked away again.

"Fine. _I'll_ start, then." Forcing her impatience aside, Sandy sighed. "What was it like for you? In Isengard. Nûrzgrat said you, uh... caused a lot of trouble. Self-preservation? Survival of the smartest? What was going on there?"

"Fuck off."

"Not very constructive, Frû," she warned. "I'm not letting you go to sleep until you unload some shit, so start shoveling."

"Don't like being told what to do," he muttered.

"Not by anyone?" Sandy said quietly. He shrugged. "You do what Nûrzgrat tells you."

"Nûrzgrat's different," he said. "He's not a stupid piece of shit."

"Ah," she said sagely, trying very hard not to explode with laughter. "I have to agree with you there."

"Our master... didn't much care for him."

"It doesn't sound to me like he was very popular with any of you guys," Sandy agreed. "My recollection is... well, vague, but I'm pretty sure 'dickhead' covers it."

Now Frû chuckled in spite of his best efforts to remain stoic and unmoved. "You're from the future, right?"

She nodded. "I always thought... this war, people like you... just stories. Something some old guy in a tailored suit made up out of the blue one day because he was bored."

"Hmph. Didn't think you'd be coming here to fuck one of us, did you?"

Sandy bristled slightly, but suppressed her retort. "No, I didn't. Crazy things happen, sometimes. I'd like to think that wasn't the reason. I don't know what the reason could possibly have _been_, but... " Shrugging, she let the statement hang.

"Not gonna meet anyone else like her, am I," he said flatly.

Sighing, Sandy shook her head. "Not likely. For that, you should be grateful, actually." Frû shot her a hostile look. "Think about it. Whenever she looks at you, she remembers what she saw you do. _That's_ what she sees in you, not... the potential for gentleness, or... I don't know, civilized behavior. Frankly, _I_ don't see it either, most of the time."

When all he did was glower in silence, she went on, "Look. I know... you're lonely. Honestly, Nûrzgrat's feeling the same way. You're cut loose on the world, your master's grip on you has let go... Used to be, all you did was fight, fight, fight. Now, the fighting's over, and you don't know what to do. What do most people do when there aren't any wars to fight? They start looking to settle down. Find a mate, for example. Raise kids. You've never had that down time before, and I'm sure it's really hard to deal with. Add the whole mate thing, and... well, I can imagine."

"_What_ can you 'imagine'?" Frû growled. "You got yours."

"_Now_, sure. Honestly, where we came from, only a small part of the population is directly involved in fighting wars. So the _rest_ of us spend _all_ our time wondering what to do with ourselves. You think _you've_ got it rough."

"Still want her."

"I know you do," Sandy conceded resignedly. "It'll suck for awhile, but... you'll get over it, eventually. You'll forget her, or maybe it'll just stop hurting so much. You'll pull yourself up and move on. At least... _try_, okay? You don't want these guys hovering over you all the time, do you?"

"Don't care what they do. Stupid fuckers."

Sensing that she was losing him, Sandy tried a different subject. "Hey, uh... would you... _really_ have gone to fight with Sauron's forces? Back when you first heard the call?"

Frû shrugged. "Thought I might. If Nûlkol went."

"Were you two... pretty close or... something?"

Glaring at her for a moment, he sneered, "Fuck no. Dumbest piece of shit out of all of us. Just... woulda been... I don't know. Wouldn't have been safe, going all that way alone. Across Rohan and such. We just went a hundred miles. Go to Mordor, you got a thousand or something. Two stand a better chance than one."

"Would it have changed things for you, knowing he'd probably bugger you all the way there?" Sandy asked wryly.

Frû snorted and shook his head. "Tried that shit with me first day out of Isengard, the little prick. I wasn't so done in I couldn't kick his ass."

"Good for you," Sandy smiled. "Would you risk it all the way to Mordor, though?"

Sighing, his shoulders sagged a little. "No. Wouldn't've gone anyway. I'm a fucking coward. Piss myself with a female holding a knife to my throat. Wouldn't last a second in front of an army of whiteskins." Wincing at his own words, he bowed his head.

"You know, I came close a few times," Sandy ventured quietly. "When Wulfric was pounding my face in. I really thought he'd kill me. I've faced a lot of assholes in my time, and there was always my world's law enforcement sort of... looming over them, keeping them in check. You don't want to kill someone in cold blood because you'll get in _acres_ of trouble. You can't hide, either. No matter what you do, who you do it to, or shit, _when_ you did it, someone'll know, someone will have seen _something_, and the cops'll nab you. Keeps a lot of people alive, just with that threat hanging over a criminal's head. Here, there's nothing. There's wide open spaces with no closed circuit TV cameras, no random pedestrian with a cell phone, taking video. The chances of anyone finding your body are nil. There was _nothing_ stopping him. _Nothing_. About all I had to hold onto was... if I kept my mouth shut, maybe you guys would get away. Sooner or later, I'd be dead, and you'd all be safe. It was a rotten alternative, but it was all I had."

"Morkoth," he said. "You wanted to keep _Morkoth_ safe. Fuck the rest of us. I know how you..."

"No, Frû," Sandy said, shaking her head. "All or nothing. Look, maybe you and I don't exactly see things eye to eye, but... we're all in this together. You, me, Nûrzgrat, Morkoth... all of us. We need _all_ of us to survive."

"If I was on fire, would you piss on me to put it out?" Frû snarled challengingly.

"No," Sandy said. "I'd get a bucket of water. I'd only piss on you if I _had_ no water."

* * *

><p>"Come on, Ghru," Brie groused. "I need you to hold her still."<p>

"I don't wanna hurt her," he protested, keeping his distance.

Brie rolled her eyes. She'd taken on the task of giving Ilsa a bath, and that meant Ghru was 'volun-told' to help. He wasn't particularly comfortable about it, and stayed well away. The end result was that Brie was soaked to the skin and Ilsa wasn't any cleaner than when she first put a toe into the stream.

For someone so small and underfed, Ilsa packed a hell of a punch. Brie was fairly sure she'd have a bruise on her cheek in the morning.

Glaring at him, she turned her attention back to the little girl. Ilsa clearly didn't like water. It took about a half hour to coax her into it once _that_ little aversion was discovered, then she expressed her extreme displeasure with _cold_ water.

It all went downhill from there.

In a world bereft of decent hair care products, Brie was forced to use deer fat to lubricate Ilsa's hair well enough to even begin to work the tangles out. Getting the child to sit still for that activity was close to impossible. Sitting _quietly_ was even harder.

In the end, the only thing that achieved both was allowing the girl to splash Brie mercilessly.

"Nice try," she grumped. "Get your ass over here _now_."

More nervous than annoyed, Ghru obediently joined her at the streambed and tried not to protest when the shrapnel of Ilsa's assault on the water's surface began hitting him as well.

"Just... hold her chest, about here," Brie instructed. "God knows we don't want to keep her arms from flailing or anything."

Ghru did as he was told, his large hands almost completely encircling the little girl's ribcage.

"Thank you," Brie sighed with relief, then went back to work on the hair.

"She is... so like you," Ghru commented softly, tilting his head first one way then another as he examined Ilsa. "But smaller."

"I was like this at her age," Brie replied absently. "Not as dark-skinned, of course. I'm told I wasn't particularly well-behaved in the bathtub, either. Payback is hell, huh?"

"Her chest is flatter," he pointed out. "And no hair between her legs like you."

"Well, she's just a baby, pretty much," Brie explained. "I know you and the others sort of missed the whole childhood experience, but... well, this is part of it. Being a brat sometimes when you're _supposed_ to be cooperating." Giving Ilsa a stern look, she held her finger a few inches in front of the girl's face, hovering at nose height. Ilsa stopped squirming for a moment to cross her eyes at the digit. Satisfied, Brie once more went after that stubborn knot. "In about, oh, ten or so years, the Boob Fairy will pay her a visit, and her chest won't be quite so flat. As Sandy puts it, the Hair in Weird Places Gremlin will also show up, though most women aren't nearly as thrilled by _his_ arrival."

Furrowing his brow, Ghru tried to figure out if Brie was joking or not. Seeing the woman's smile, he relaxed and smiled as well.

"Sooner or later we'll be seeing a change in Razkaar," she went on. "Thakûf's already going through it. We'd better learn as much as we can while we have the chance. We'll be holding our own kids' hands through this at some point."

A flutter erupted in Ghru's gut at Brie's words. It felt very good to hear her speak so casually about their whelps to come. As if she fully expected there to _be_ some, and was happy to have them. He found himself smiling at Ilsa, something he'd not done. Until this moment, his smiles were only for Brie.

* * *

><p>"This is where you gotta keep your fuckin' noise down," Nûrzgrat growled in an undertone.<p>

Thakûf ducked his head in shame. "Sorry," he muttered.

"No matter," the leader relented. "Probably woulda smelled us anyway. We ain't downwind. Keep movin', boy. This way." Then Nûrzgrat was on his feet again, crouched low, and threading his way through the dense undergrowth. Thakûf followed in his wake, trying to avoid those hidden dry twigs that had startled the doe they were stalking when he stepped on it.

One item Nûrzgrat had been very pleased to accept from the Dunlending swine so eager to get rid of them, was this crossbow. It certainly took a lot of the uncertainty out of hunting game. If they could get close enough to another deer, he was fairly certain he'd be able to hit it without too much trouble. It certainly beat running one of them down with a sword.

"Nûrzgrat?" Thakûf whispered nervously.

"Yeah?" Turning, he saw that the young Uruk had stopped and was peering at him with uncertainty and confusion.

"Why'd... why'd they... I don't understand."

"Why'd who do what?" the leader growled, not particularly interested in playing guessing games at the moment.

"They were mean to Ilsa, weren't they?" Thakûf said quietly, more for confirmation than asking if it were so.

Sighing, Nûrzgrat nodded. "Aye, they were."

"Just cause of... how she was made?"

"Yeah." Huffing an ironic chuckle, he shook his head. "Same with all of us, if you think on it. None of us had nothin' to do with how we were made, and whiteskins slaughter us like pigs."

"Why didn't they?" Thakûf asked uncomfortably. "I'm glad they _didn't_, but... why not?"

Nûrzgrat shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe they thought bad things would happen to'em. Like... a curse from their, uh, gods or what have you. Who the fuck knows what makes a whiteskin do what they do? Ask Morkoth 'bout that. He'd know better'n me."

"But... they ain't... white," Thakûf protested feebly, unsure of his reasoning. "Why you call'em whiteskins?"

A bitter response was on the tip of Nûrzgrat's tongue, but he faltered. Frowning, he gave it a little more thought than he'd troubled to before. It was embarrassing to come up empty-handed. "Just do, I guess. They ain't as dark as _us_, that's for sure."

"Does that... matter?"

"Suppose not," the leader shrugged. "All of'em treat us the same. So..."

"The same as what?" Thakûf pressed curiously. "Them folk from the village? Cause... you said they slaughter us. Nobody but them Dunlendings ever tried to kill us, and they're supposed to be our friends, ain't they?"

"Listen," Nûrzgrat snarled, "maybe there's exceptions to the rule, but the _rule_ is that whiteskins, _Men_, kill us whenever they see us. Don't you forget that. Don't let your guard down, not even for a second."

"You told them the same thing about us," Thakûf pointed out.

"Well, it's the truth," the leader snorted. "We don't get along well, Men and Orcs. There ain't any trust there."

"You trust Brie and Sandy, right?"

"Exceptions," Nûrzgrat said firmly. "And before you say it, _no_, I didn't trust the people in the village all that much. Sure as fuck didn't trust them Dunlendings we got our stuff from. None of _them_ earned my trust. Brie and Sandy _did_. There's the difference."

Thakuf nodded. "Where're we goin', Nûrzgrat?"

Shifting uncomfortably, the leader looked away. "Don't know. Just... north, I guess. Find us a place... someplace hidden."

"Where ain't nobody gonna find us?"

Nûrzgrat nodded. "Yeah. We gotta. Like I said, we're good as dead if Men find us. _Worse_ then dead if Elves do."

"Elves?" the young Uruk asked. "What're they?"

"They're... sorta like Men, but... really fucking old," Nûrzgrat replied uncertainly. "Back when _Shark__û_ was still tryin' to fool them folk about what he was up to, they used to come round. Had to stay outta sight, but a few of us lads would spy on'em. Couple of dark-haired Elf brothers showed up a lot, askin' questions about Orcs and shit. Like they was out huntin'em and thought maybe _Shark__û_ knew somethin' about how they think."

"Did he?"

Chuckling, Nûrzgrat shook his head. "Nah. Stupid old bastard didn't know shit, and he was surrounded by us every fuckin' day. Might've come outta them talks thinking Orcs was just about as dumb as cattle, but I didn't _feel_ stupid, so I went and asked the _snaga_ things. A lot smarter'n _Shark__û_ gave'em credit for."

"Are _we_... smart?"

Nûrzgrat nodded. "Made it this far, ain't we? If we were stupid, we'd've just let the waters take us. Failing that, we might've gone east instead of west, lookin' for a fight. Stupid bastards don't try to save their race, I'm thinkin'. Savin' the race means gettin' as far away from war as you can."

Thakûf nodded, then frowned. "But... if we hide, how're we gonna find more females for mating? Brie don't want nobody but Ghru, and Sandy's for Morkoth. What about you and Frû? What about _me_?"

"Don't know," Nûrzgrat growled with frustration. "One fuckin' thing at a time, all right?"

"I... I like whiteskin females," Thakûf said meekly, staring at his hands. "They're... pretty. Where'm I gonna find one that don't... hate me and ain't afraid of me?"

"Got no idea," the leader sighed.


	48. Finding a Place to Call Home

**Finding a Place to Call Home**

_March 12 – 16, 3019 – Though the Battle of Dale ends, Erebor is besieged; Sauron's forces assault Lórien from Dol Guldur for the third time; Aragorn and the armies of the Free Peoples reach the Desolation of the Morannon and set up camp; Frodo and Sam reach the base of Mount Doom_

Rather than cross at first light, Nûrzgrat turned them east, following the river into the mountains. At his insistence, and over Brie's feeble protests, Ilsa rode atop his shoulders seated comfortably on the pack strapped to the Uruk's back. Sandy made some comment about the little girl forgetting how to walk if the 'boys' kept up their coddling, and he snarled at her.

"Don't want her feet touchin' Dunland dirt," he snapped, and the women backed off.

He led them up animal trails and through dense underbrush, keeping the river on his left hand, until finally, they could go no further. The whiff of the something that drew him there lay before them.

"This is it," he growled. "We stop here." He carefully lowered Ilsa to the ground and dropped his pack.

Brie and Sandy exchanged looks. It was a small clearing hugging the side of a cliff face. Less than ten yards off and down a bit of a slope, the river ended in a pool fed by a great waterfall from high up in the Misty Mountains. The sound of the crashing water filled the silence.

Almost hidden in the encroaching woods near the edge of the clearing stood a dilapidated old cottage, with only two walls still standing, and barely a corner left of the roof. Nûrzgrat approached the ruin warily, but quickly saw there was no need to fear. Apart from the occasional animal making a winter home in the structure, there was no life remaining. His nose hadn't lied.

"Um...," Sandy ventured quietly, "why _here_?"

Morkoth, Frû, and Ghru joined their leader in looking at the remains of the house.

"See how the walls're made?" Nûrzgrat said, pointing. "Supports and such. If we copy that, we can make our own."

Morkoth nodded. "Yes. We can do this."

Ghru looked at Nûrzgrat curiously. "Did you know this was here?"

"Nah," he replied. "Smelled somethin' funny last night. Couldn't really... wasn't sure."

"Nûrzgrat," Sandy said again, putting a hand on his arm to get his attention. "Why _here_?"

Swallowing and grinding his jaw for a moment, the leader looked away. "I don't wanna walk no more. We ain't gonna find nothin' better. Likely find somethin' worse. I'm tired." His voice began to tremble and he raised his eyes skyward for a moment. "I'm so... fucking... _tired_. I just... wanna stop."

Brie and Sandy went to either side of him and slipped an arm each around his waist. Morkoth dropped a heavy, reassuring hand on Nûrzgrat's shoulder.

"It's perfect," Sandy said quietly, giving him a squeeze.

* * *

><p>The next few days were filled with cutting down trees, splitting trunks, and hauling lumber into the clearing. Nûrzgrat finally revealed what lay in the packs once they set up their camp; hatchets, hammers, wedges, and various other building tools. He knew they would be needed. Along with these treasures were clothes made by Dunlending women, a few dented pots and pans, and something Ghru had nearly reverted to his old, vicious self to obtain: a lute.<p>

Presenting the instrument to Brie earned him tears and hugs, which he accepted with some confusion. Her eyes shone when she looked at it.

"Ghru... it's beautiful," she breathed, smoothing her hand over the rough and pitted wood as if it were a Stradivarius.

"It don't have strings, though," he grumbled, and she shook her head.

"I can make them. I'll figure out how." Then she was hugging him and weeping again. "Thank you _so_ much, Ghru. I _love_ it." Drawing back from him, she smiled through the tears and touched his scarred cheek. "I love _you_."

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and smiled a little. "I love you as well, Brianna."

* * *

><p>While the Uruks and Sandy labored to build the first little house next to the ruined one, Brie sat with Ilsa and helped her communicate with them better. The little girl had managed to pick up quite a few words in her village by simply listening, and coaxing her to actually use them had been a bit of a hurdle. Unfortunately, they were often coarse or abusive words. Ilsa proved an avid pupil, however, soaking up the new words as enthusiastically as she did the attention that was showered upon her. Razkaar was both a help and a hindrance at times, for he would often 'kidnap' his new friend from her teacher's side to play games he'd learned from the other Ilsa.<p>

Brie couldn't help being amused, though, and didn't chastise him too much. The young Uruk seemed thoroughly enamored with the little girl, and the feeling was mutual. They were like very close siblings, worshipping the ground the other walked. Ilsa sought him out for companionship and play, as well as warmth during the night, and he shadowed her as if he couldn't bear for her to be out of his sight. Perhaps he feared she might disappear as his other friends had, if he didn't keep his eye on her.

Three days into the work of building the first shelter, Ilsa's lessons began to include simple two-word phrases. Brie taught her how to ask for the meanings of words as well, and unlocked a constant barrage of pointing and asking 'what this?' In a very short time, the little girl was able to convey simple things, like telling them she was hungry or sleepy. Brie had forgotten how much like sponges young children were.

While watching the others at work, Brie was taken aback when Ilsa squealed and dove for cover quite suddenly. Nothing strange had happened; the six males were shirtless and toiling in the sun, splitting trunks and sinking support beams. Sandy worked right along with them, wielding a hammer to whack the timbers into alignment after the boys lowered them into place. The walls were slowly climbing around the rectangular space marked at one end of the clearing.

Then she realized Nûrzgrat was yelling at Frû. Evidently, the younger Uruk had dropped his end of a beam and it landed on the leader's foot. As was typical of Nûrzgrat, he first clubbed the offending Uruk upside the head, then laid into him with a furious string of expletives Brie was glad were mostly couched in Orcish.

Turning, Brie located Ilsa behind a clump of bushes and went over to sit with her.

"It's okay, Ilsa," she soothed, reaching out and stroking the little girl's hair. Ilsa sat in a huddle, hugging her knees and rocking. "It's okay."

Raising her big brown eyes to Brie, Ilsa struck her own face. "What this?" she asked.

The woman blinked in shocked confusion for a moment. Thinking she wasn't understood, Ilsa repeated the gesture and the question.

Brie was almost too slow to grab the girl's wrist on the third attempt to get her point across. "Hit," she said shakily. "That is 'hit.'"

Unlike every other time Ilsa learned a new word, her brow creased with a frown and she nodded. Her voice, lower in register than a normal little girl her age, said quietly, "Dun hit Ilsa."

It was the word they'd taught her to refer to the people of her village.

Fighting to keep herself calm, Brie gently took the girl's hands and looked her in the eye. "Nobody will hit Ilsa anymore," she said firmly. "Nobody."

Ilsa cocked her head to the side curiously. "What 'nobody'?"

"Not Brie," she said, pointing to herself, then indicated each person in the group as she said their names. "Not Razkaar, not Thakûf, not Ghru, not Frû, not Sandy, not Morkoth. And _never_ Nûrzgrat. No hit Ilsa."

A slow smile spread across the little girl's face. Without another word, she bounced to her feet and eagerly started up the 'what this' assault once more, as if nothing at all was wrong. Rising, Brie shook her head. She hoped that whatever other traumas the girl had suffered would be as easliy shrugged off. Admittedly, youth had its advantages.

* * *

><p>"It's not bad," Morkoth growled, dunking Razkaar's hand in the stream to wash the blood off. "Pay attention to your work next time. You'll have time enough to play with Ilsa after dinner."<p>

Grumbling, the runt glanced over his shoulder up the rise to the clearing. They'd completed one wall and were halfway through the second. Nobody had stepped up to claim the first dwelling, but he suspected it wouldn't be his. Still, an area large enough for them all to lie comfortably inside had been staked out. Maybe they'd share it? He hoped so. The nights were kind of cold here in the mountains.

Something else was bothering Razkaar, though.

"Morkoth?" he ventured tentatively.

"Yes?" the tall Uruk said as he rose to return to work.

"Uh... why's everybody act different with Ilsa than they did with me?"

Furrowing his brow, Morkoth hesitated, then returned to the riverbank and sat down beside Raz. "Ilsa's younger and smaller. She doesn't know things that... you were born knowing. She wasn't born as you were, either."

"She wasn't pulled outta the mud?" Raz asked curiously.

Chuckling, Morkoth shook his head. "No. She was born from a female, as we all were. The difference is that she... Ilsa was not...," he faltered uncomfortably. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to continue. "She was not born in Isengard."

Raz nodded, then frowned. "What was I born knowing? That she didn't know?"

"Sometimes... Master put things in our heads before we came out," Morkoth replied.

"What... things?" the young Uruk whispered.

"Just... language," Morkoth shrugged. "Some of us, he wanted to use right away. So... we'd get language while we were inside the ground. He couldn't give us... his Voice... until we were out."

"Why?"

"Wouldn't survive it," the older Uruk said. "Remember after we got out of the valley? Everybody except you and Thakûf dropped like a stone that morning and couldn't move for an hour or more? We lost his Voice. It didn't go quietly."

"Yeah," Raz nodded. "I remember that. Scared the shit outta us."

Morkoth grunted with amusement. "You were not the only ones scared. We did not know what was happening to us, either. Most do not remember when the Voice is given in the first place, it is so painful. It was good that Nûrzgrat had his head on straight that day. Got us the rest of the way out. We might have gotten in trouble with those Men who came out of the valley later on."

"Men?"

"I think they put a stop to our Master," Morkoth explained. "Broke him. Or his power, anyway. Nûrzgrat said the war was over for us, and we'd better get as far away from it as possible. So we ran."

Grinning, Raz said, "Then we found Sandy and Brie."

"Yes," Morkoth said with a quiet smile. "That was a good day."

Taking a deep breath, Razkaar tried to think of how to ask the question that had been festering in his mind for weeks. He might never get another chance alone with Morkoth, the only one he felt even remotely sure would tell him the truth about these things.

"Morkoth," he said, "what... were we made for? You said Master wanted to... use us. I've heard most of you talkin' about what 'use' we were put to, but... I don't understand."

Sighing uncomfortably, Morkoth fixed his eyes on the ever-flowing water of the stream. For a moment, he wondered what it was called, and wished he'd been asked _that_.

"We were made... to kill Master's enemies," he finally said flatly. "He used us, not just to kill them, but crush them. Destroy them. We burned their villages and lands, butchered their livestock..." He took a couple of steadying breaths, and couldn't look at the innocent face of this Uruk as he revealed the ugly truth. "We raped their women and murdered their children. Drove them from their homes and destroyed everything behind them. That... is what he made us for."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Morkoth bowed his head. It was worse telling Raz than it had been telling Sandy.

Razkaar stared across the water in horror, his mouth hanging open, lower lip trembling. "I... I don't wanna do that!" he cried.

Reaching over, Morkoth awkwardly patted his shoulder a few times. "You do not have to, Raz. We aren't _that_ anymore. We are free of our Master's will. We do not hear his Voice anymore. And... you never heard it." Forcing himself to look at the young Uruk, Morkoth gazed intently into Raz's eyes. "You, Thak and Ilsa never heard his Voice. He never touched any of you. You have always been free, and will always be."

"So... what do I do?" Raz asked uncertainly.

"Whatever you want," the big Uruk replied. Then he looked away. "Except... Well, there is freedom of the mind, and then there is freedom of the body. Your mind is free, but... your body is not. We are still... Uruk-hai. To Men – to whiteskins – we are simply Orcs, and that means... it means that they will kill us if they see us. There is nothing we can do about that."

"Brie and Sandy are whiteskins," Raz pointed out.

Morkoth grunted. "They are different. They came from another place. One that does not have Orcs. Because of this, they are able to look at us without fear or hatred."

"But... the villagers didn't hate us..."

"We were lucky," Morkoth interrupted. "If it had not been obvious, once we began attacking the Dunlendings and sending their women and children to safety, that we meant no harm, those Riders would have tried to kill _us_ as well as the Dunlendings."

"So... because we're free, and want to be something... else... they let us live?" Raz asked.

"Yes," Morkoth nodded. "They _let_ us live. They would not have done so if we had not acted differently than they expected. Remember this, Razkaar: few whiteskins will see that. They likely will not get close enough, or even _think_, to ask. They will kill us, because we are _Orcs_. That is all that matters."

Sighing, the large Uruk looked into the trees across the river without really paying them much mind. He didn't want to crush the poor little Uruk with such weighty matters, but once the poison began purging from his own system, he couldn't stop it.

"We have been used... so badly," he breathed quietly. "Used as weapons against them. We have had no choice. Most of the time, we did not even know what we did was wrong, was evil, was hurtful... We did not know. Men taught us otherwise. Brie and Sandy... taught us otherwise."

"But... whiteskins ain't gonna ask... if we're good or not... are they?" Razkaar said, his voice trembling.

"No," Morkoth replied. "They are not."

"So we gotta hide."

"Yes. We do."

"For the rest of our lives."

"Yes," Morkoth said thickly.

Razkaar's face crumpled and he sobbed, "I don't wanna hide. I ain't a monster. I didn't do nothin'." Dropping his head into his folded arms, he drew up his knees and wept.

Morkoth's eyes stung and a lump rose in his throat. "I know. I know. And I'm _so_ sorry. But... that's how it's gotta be. It is not what _you_ have done; it is what _we_ have done. Me, Frû, Ghru, Nûrzgrat... it is what _we_ have done. I... I wish I could take it all back." He furiously dragged his arm across his eyes. "I really do. You don't deserve this. None of you deserve this. But there's nothing I can do. What's done is done. I'm sorry... I'm _so_ sorry, Raz."

The two Uruk-hai sat together on the riverbank and wept.


	49. A Thousand Ways to Fuck Up

**A Thousand Ways to Fuck Up, But You Really Only Need One**

It gave Mornaquesse a sense of superiority that they bound her in the same chains that once held her Master, as if she were his equal. The lesser sibling of Melkor glared down at her from his lofty throne, thinking himself her better. She sneered.

Manwë listened intently to the descriptions of the _maia_'s deeds, shaking his head with dismay. Though Vairë had doggedly pursued the alarming deposit of two innocent women into the hands of vile orcs, she now stood silent, a thoughtful look on her face.

What she had thought was a horrible thing had resolved itself in an unexpected way.

"... do not know the full extent of the damage done," Lórien was saying, and the Elder King focused once more on his testimony. "I was able to find a few of those Tulkas witnessed in the pool. Only one was I able to aid in any way."

Eyebrows rising, Manwë leaned forward. "Indeed? What did you do?"

The Dreamweaver shifted slightly. "Admittedly, not much. What has transpired since then is a tale for another time, but... I was able to divert her path. She did not appear in Arda where intended. Of all those I found, she was the most vulnerable, the weakest in skill." Bowing his head slightly, Lórien said quietly, "I arranged... an ally for her."

"Explain," Manwë said sternly.

Lórien's gaze darted to Tulkas, who rolled his eyes. _He_ knew what had come of the Dreamweaver's rash actions, and found it little better than the traitor's goal.

"As I said, that is not the issue here," Lórien said firmly. "This... fallen _maia_'s methods were such that removing these women from their situations was impossible, as was preventing their eventual exposure to orcs. Only _their_ strength, and the choices _they_ made, spared them... well... let us say they did not become _victims_ of Curinír's Uruk-hai."

The Elder King settled back in his throne and steepled his fingers before him. "Proceed."

Pulling out a scroll and unrolling it, the Dreamweaver scanned the notes he'd taken. "It would seem that the most common vehicle for exposure was the Fellowship which sought to unmake Gorthaur's Ring. Given this, the women were oft deposited in their path, and accompanied them on the Great Quest. I found... numerous time streams affected by such anomalous additions. Many perished before ever encountering the Uruk-hai. Of those Tulkas saw, however, there were various... confrontations.

"As an example, one such woman was intended to be taken by the Uruk-hai at Amon Hen, but being a decent enough swordswoman in her own right, she held her own and that goal was thwarted. A second attempt was made after Helm's Deep, for she felt an urgent need to leave the relative safety of the Fellowship and strike out on her own. Near as I can tell, the survivors of Isengard's destruction were expected to..." Here he stopped and swallowed uncomfortably. "They were expected to take her for... mating purposes. However, two things happened that could not have been foreseen. One, this woman spared and befriended an Uruk survivor of the battle, who accompanied her. Two, those who prevailed following the flooding were too weak and sick to pose any threat. Because of her trust in the Uruk, and her... affection for him... she showed the others mercy, and they became her allies as a result."

He shifted down the parchment. "Another who was meant to be taken at _several_ points, all thwarted by her own ingenuity and ferocity, survived the war and might have been dismissed as a lost cause, had not a lone Uruk of Isengard become available." Grimacing with disgust, he glared at Mornaquesse. She refused to look at him, holding her head up defiantly. Curling his lip, he returned to his report. "The Uruk was subjected to vile tortures and despicable acts, rendered nearly immobile by grievous injury. The woman found him and nursed him back to health. Perhaps the intention was to gain her trust through pity, enabling the Uruk to abuse her once recovered, but such did not occur."

"Were there no women of Arda involved in any of these events?" Manwë asked.

"A few, my Lord," the Dreamweaver nodded. "A maiden of Hollin was driven by orcs into the path of an Uruk. I would say she was... not precisely _captured_, but... I confess, that case is complicated. Regardless, she willingly travelled with him, fleeing _her own folk_, and together... well, according to my investigation, they reside in Lothlórien as guests of Celeborn."

The Elder King sat back in his throne, stunned. "Has Galadriel been informed of this?"

"She has," Lórien confirmed. "When she learned of the circumstances, she... she supported her husband's decision."

"An Uruk... welcome in the Golden Wood," Manwë murmured in wonder. Shaking himself, he said, "I confess, I see little actual _harm_ done. The _intention_, however... the apparent _goal_ of these... attempts..." Taking a deep breath, the Elder King turned a baleful gaze on Mornaquesse. "You thought to continue Curinír's work, did you? Restore a breed of orc known for its viciousness, loyalty, tolerance of the sun, hatred of Men, single-minded cruelty? An army your Master would have at his beck and call when the Dagor Dagorath comes?" Ducking his head slightly, he chuckled. "Foolish to imagine the _istar_'s methods were flawless."

"Indeed, my Lord," Tulkus interjected with a smirk, yet his tone held clear admiration for the warrior race. "Above all, the Uruk-hai are _survivors_. They adapt as Men do. They learn and grow in ways, perhaps, their cousins do not. Against all reason, one of the things their Mannish blood has given them is the capacity for love. Not all are willing to embrace such an emotion, but it would seem this pathetic excuse managed to find all those who _did_." Then he laughed, thinking the stricken _maia_'s folly was the most amusing mishap he'd ever heard tell of.


	50. The Chains of Freedom

**The Chains of Freedom**

_March 17, 3019 – The Captains of the West assault the Black Gate of Mordor; the One Ring is cast into the fire, ending Sauron's power and presence in Arda_

The day began as any had there in the clearing over the past week. Nûrzgrat was first up, kicking the slumbering Uruk-hai to wakefulness. There were lowering clouds in the west, seeming to aim for their nascent settlement. If they did not at least have the third wall completed and a crude roof laid before the storm arrived, there might be a great deal more grumbling than had been heard yet.

Sandy was reluctant to get up. Still wrapped in their blanket after Morkoth joined the others, she wasn't quite sure what was wrong, but she didn't feel... right. Even the _idea_ of eating breakfast made her gorge rise.

"Are you all right?" Brie asked, bending over her friend with concern on her face. "You're usually bouncing out of bed."

Slowly, Sandy sat up, mindful of jostling too much. It seemed even the tiniest movement threatened to dislodge what little was in her stomach. "I don't feel so good."

Brie knelt beside her and looked carefully at Sandy's wan face. "How _do_ you feel? Nauseous?" she asked quietly.

Sandy shrugged. "A little. Just... around the edges."

"How long did you bleed? When you... got your period?"

"Um... couple of days," she replied. "Not as long as usual. And it was pretty light, really. I usually make a hell of a mess for a whole week. Weird, huh?"

Looking away for a second, Brie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I think," she said, grabbing and holding Sandy's gaze, "you might be..."

"Uh, _no_," Sandy said, shaking her head swiftly. "I _bled_. That was my _period_."

"It was more likely implantation," Brie countered seriously. Taking hold of her friend's hands, she gave them a squeeze. "It's okay. We can't be one hundred percent sure. It's just... a gut feeling."

"_Please_ don't say anything to Morkoth," Sandy whispered. "If you're wrong, or god forbid, I... _lose_ it..." Biting her lip, she tried not to cry. "I'm scared, Brie."

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Brie said gently. "I'm here. I know what to do. Well," she conceded with a little embarrassment, "let's just say I know better than _they_ do, anyway."

"What I wouldn't give for Gurvalthen right about now," Sandy said wistfully. "Or, you know... some White Castles."

Brie burst into laughter, barely able to smother it so not to attract the attention of the Uruks already hard at work on the house. "Oh my god, just what we need: your weird-ass cravings."

"Brie-Brie, I've wanted White Castles since we got here," Sandy said with mock indignation. "And ice cream, and chocolate, and Ding Dongs, and..." Sighing, she slumped and stared at her hands, still held by her friend. "How will we know for sure?"

"Probably not until you start getting lumpy," Brie grinned. "There's no handy pharmacy with pee sticks anywhere in the vicinity. Just... take it easy. Listen to your body. If it says 'don't push yourself,' you'd better not."

"I think my body's saying 'be a lazy ass today,' because I don't particularly want to move around much."

"Then stay here. Rest. Relax. Don't worry yourself." Sighing, she rose. "I'll handle breakfast. I'm sure there's _something_ you can eat that won't make you barf."

"Good luck with that," Sandy grumbled, lying back down and holding her stomach.

* * *

><p>"Tip it a little to the left," Morkoth advised, eye-balling the alignment of one of the beams. Frû and Ghru obligingly shifted the thick tree trunk. The tall Uruk circled the beam, making sure it was straight from all sides, then nodded with satisfaction. "Hold it there for a bit."<p>

Going to the pile of rough-hewn timbers, he selected several and carried them one by one to the beam, then positioned them at an angle on four sides to support it and hold it straight. Once he was certain the support beam wouldn't shift, he waved the other two Uruks away. Thakûf eagerly dove in to back-fill the hole with dirt to secure the beam as he had done its twin on the other end of the building.

"Looks good," Nûrzgrat commented with a nod. "Good and strong. Keep the roof up well, I'll wager."

"Yes," Morkoth agreed, taking a deep breath and letting it out. His body hurt from the work they'd been doing all week, but it was a satisfying sort of pain. He could see results that benefitted the group, and he felt a small amount of pride that they'd been able to match the structure of the ruin so well. Even improved on it in some places.

Glancing back toward the firepit, his brow furrowed. Sandy hadn't joined them, and still huddled in their blanket. He didn't even want to imagine that she was sick; that was something he would not be able to fix with a hammer or sword.

"Something wrong with Sandy?" Frû said at his side, and Morkoth frowned at him. Noticing the tall Uruk's curious expression, Frû shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Just wondering."

"I do not know," Morkoth said quietly. "She has said nothing to me."

Frû nodded, still trying to figure out why he even asked.

"All right, boys, break's over," Nûrzgrat barked. "House ain't gonna build itself. I want some roof over our heads before that storm..."

It was as if the leader's mouth slammed shut. His throat convulsively swallowed several times, his body shook uncontrollably, and his eyes widened with terror of what was happening to him. Nûrzgrat's head flared with pain such as he had never experienced. His panicked eyes scanned the others; Morkoth and Frû were grimacing and holding their heads. Ghru seemed to be just as afflicted as Nûrzgrat. Even as the scarred Uruk's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, the lights went out for Nûrzgrat as well.

Seeing the two oldest Uruks go down shook Morkoth from the nausea and headache he was suffering, and he bellowed for Sandy. Then he went to the leader's side and knelt there, looking at him helplessly.

"What's wrong?" the red-head asked as she stumbled over. "Oh my god, is he okay?"

"I do not know," Morkoth said, then rubbed his temple hard. "I feel... such pain. His must be worse."

"Ghru's down too," Frû growled, pinching the bridge of his nose and wincing.

"Brie! Ghru needs help!" Sandy called, and her friend came running, Ilsa and Raz on her heels.

Frû dropped into a crouch and hugged his head. While he didn't think he'd end up like Nûrzgrat and Ghru, he still wished desperately that the pain would stop. It felt like his head was trying to explode.

Leaning over her mate, Brie stroked Ghru's pain-contorted face, tears filling her eyes. "Ghru! Oh god, no." She grabbed one of his hands and held on. "What happened?"

"We were just standing here," Morkoth struggled to say, wincing around a wave of pain that rolled through his head. After a few seconds, the headache seemed to diminish a bit, and he was able to speak again. "It hit us all at once. Hit them harder."

Sandy turned to Thakûf, huddled as far away from the stricken Uruks as he could get. "Thak, go get some water." The young Uruk sprang to his feet, grabbed one of their cooking pots, and dashed to the river. "Raz, keep Ilsa busy for a bit, okay? Until we figure out what's going on." The runt nodded, wide-eyed and afraid, but took the little girl by the hand and led her back to the campfire.

They were both so still, their chests barely moving as they breathed. Sandy tore her eyes away from Nûrzgrat and looked at Morkoth. "You sure you're okay?"

"I think so," he muttered, as if too loud a voice would set off the pain once more. "My head... it... _pounds_. And... I feel... sick." Morkoth grimaced and rubbed his stomach.

"Frû? Do you feel the same way?" Sandy asked, turning to the other Uruk. He nodded, but didn't look up or say a word.

When Thakûf returned with the water, Sandy looked him over as well. "Are _you_ okay?"

Shrugging, and deftly managing to avoid looking at any of the other Uruks, Thakûf said, "Got a little pain. In my head. Some. Not bad, though."

"Go check on Raz," she advised. "Make sure he's okay. And Ilsa, while you're at it."

"They gonna die?" the young Uruk asked in a small, trembling voice.

"I don't think so," Sandy replied, gripping Thakûf's hand briefly. "I think... I think I know what happened. They'll probably be fine in a little while." Nodding, Thakûf trotted away to the campfire.

Morkoth looked at his mate intently. "What has happened?"

"Something... wonderful," she replied with a wan smile.

* * *

><p>When awareness returned, Nûrzgrat felt different. There was still a dull ache in his head, but it wasn't nearly as bad anymore. Except that wasn't what he focused on.<p>

Taking a deep breath, he tried to sit up, but Sandy was there, and pushed him back gently.

"Easy there," she admonished softly. "You're not going anywhere. Just relax. How do you feel?"

How could he put it into words? It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. "Head's... empty."

Brow furrowed with concern, Sandy said, "Do you... know who you are?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Just... it's just _quiet_. I don't hear nothin'. No... voices. And... fuck." An image rushed into his mind, one that had assailed him just as consciousness faded. "Saw a tower... big fuckin' thing... like _Shark__û__'s..._ just... fall..."

Sandy smiled a little and wiped his brow with a damp rag. "That's kind of what I thought. I suppose you and Ghru were hit harder because... well, like you've said before, you're more _orc_ than the rest of them. So when Sauron was defeated..."

He looked sharply at her and his breath quickened. "Defeated?"

She nodded. "The war's over, Nûrzgrat. Sauron's... dead, I suppose. I'm not sure you can kill something like him, but... he's definitely been destroyed. So... I guess that means that... the orcs are free. And so are the Uruk-hai."

"Anybody else... go down?" he asked with slight embarrassment.

"Just Ghru," Sandy replied. "Brie's taking care of him."

Nûrzgrat glanced over and saw Brie leaning back against a log they'd dragged to the fireside. Lying back against her, in her arms, was a tired-looking Ghru. A lump formed in the leader's throat and he quickly looked away. "And... the others?"

"Morkoth and Frû just got really bad headaches, but they're okay now," she said. "The kids were hardly affected at all. I guess, the less orcish they were, the easier time they had, huh?" She laughed a little, but it came out forced. She saw the expression on his face when he looked at Brie and Ghru. It tore her heart to see the longing there. "Anyway, they're all back on the house, putting up a temporary roof. We'll be seeing the rain come in soon."

Nodding, Nûrzgrat looked away. Taking the hint, Sandy rose and went to see if she could offer any help to the boys. She'd gotten over her nausea by the simple expedient of eating something, and now felt a bit closer to normal. Probably just a fluke. No sense in getting worked up about it.

Except she knew in her gut it was no false alarm.

Staring skyward, Nûrzgrat gritted his teeth. He should be happy about this, he knew. He hadn't been able to put it into words, but it was more than freedom from the yoke of slavery. The dark thoughts that plagued him, the seemingly instinctive desire to fight... they were gone. While he had no doubt he'd find the fight once more if the need arose, he no longer felt quite so... compelled to stir up shit. Right now, he didn't feel particularly driven to react violently to the smallest thing, either. Like a block of wood dropped on his foot, for example. Maybe _that_ came from the Dark Lord as well. And now it was gone.

But he was still Nûrzgrat. If he didn't get up and get moving, those boys would fuck up the roof and they'd all be squatting in a flooded house. Struggling to sit up, his eyes fell on Ghru and his mate once more. The Uruk's face was relaxed, his head resting back on Brie's shoulder. She rubbed his chest with one hand, the other pressed to his heart and covered by Ghru's large scarred hand. Her eyes were closed and she nuzzled her mate's cheek lovingly.

His throat constricted again, and he hastily looked away. Would _this_ pain never stop?

Instead of going to the building site, Nûrzgrat went into the woods, heading for the pool and the waterfall. They may be free of the Shadow, but they were still shackled by their race. No matter what he did from here on out, he would still be an Uruk. Men would still look at him and his kind and see monsters, enemies... There would be no more opportunities.

So it was time to drop it. Ignore it. Bury it. Whatever he had to do. That lot needed him. They couldn't manage anything without him, and he wouldn't be of use to anyone if he continued mourning the loss of something he never had, and never _would_ have.

Alone at the pool, Nûrzgrat stripped down and stepped into the cold water. Looking up and up the waterfall, he hoped there'd be enough. Then he bowed his head and entered the crashing spray.

Nobody was around to ask endless questions about how he was feeling or what he was thinking. No one would see. Still raw from the release of the Dark Lord's hold, he had no strength to avoid the tears he'd been hiding from for so long.

He wept beneath the falls, so the water would wash it all away. He howled his pain, the falls' noise so loud none would hear. His heart hurt so much, he briefly wished it was stilled when the Dark Lord's hateful presence left him.

* * *

><p>"I do not hear... not even the whispers," Ghru said quietly. He took a deep breath and let himself settle more comfortably in Brie's arms. "It's all gone."<p>

"I'm glad," Brie replied softly.

"I feel... different," he said, frowning with thought. "My mind is... calm. I do not... fear. Or hate. All is still."

It was more than this, but he didn't have the words. How could he describe this feeling of being _clean_? Of having all the ugliness of his making and the deeds he had done... dissolved away as if they no longer drove him? Ghru stared at the licking flames of their campfire, rested against the body of his mate, and felt... alive. What he was before, the grotesque and foul Ghrulagûrz he had been, seemed to have died. He didn't know what he had become, but judging by how relaxed he felt, how warm and _needed_ he felt, he must have become something good.

Perhaps he would not be so confused by Brie's affection for him _now_, where before it baffled him. Maybe now he could be worthy of it.

* * *

><p>Morkoth and Frû settled the last timber over the north corner of the shelter and stepped back. Sandy dragged several evergreen branches into the work area with Thakûf's help. Though tempted to find out what became of Nûrzgrat, Sandy restrained herself. He needed time alone, she'd learned.<p>

Together, they laced and wove the branches into the exposed ribs of the roof. Thunder rolled across the sky.

"Just in time," Sandy commented. Glancing at Frû's frowning face, she reached out and patted his shoulder. "You all right?"

The corner of the Uruk's mouth twitched, but he didn't exactly smile. "What's it gonna be like, without this war going on? Can we go anywhere, do anything?"

Sighing, she shook her head. "I don't know. I honestly don't. I'd rather err on the side of _no_. At least until some time has passed, and we have a chance to see..." She shrugged. "I just don't know."

Frû nodded. It would be awhile, then. He'd have to wait. Give it some time. Maybe they'd stop watching so closely, too.

"What's goin' on?" Razkaar asked, looking up at the sky as he walked over with Ilsa clinging to his back.

"We're going to have a storm," Morkoth explained. "Rain and lightning, by the look of it. We will want to be under the roof when it comes."

"Why? What's rain? Does it hurt?" the runt asked with concern.

"No, not at all," Sandy laughed. "It's just... water. Falling out of the sky." Seeing the young Uruk's stricken face, she frowned. "It's not like the flooding, Raz. Nothing like that."

"You will be all right," Morkoth reassured him, gripping Razkaar's shoulder. "It is only rain."

A drop of water landed on Razkaar's nose, and his wide eyes crossed to look at it. Sandy stifled a giggle at his expression. The drop slowly slid off.

He laughed uncertainly. "Yeah. Just... rain."


	51. Epilogue: An Unexpected Party

**Epilogue: An Unexpected Party**

_August 21, 3019 – The Travellers, accompanied by Elrond and his sons, and Galadriel and Celeborn, reach the River Glanduin just south of Moria; the previous day, they encountered Saruman and Gríma Wormtongue who then turned toward the Shire_

"Where are we?" Frodo asked. The land seemed so different to his eyes than he recalled from a year ago. "I do not remember this river."

"It is the Swanfleet, though in elder days it was called Glanduin this close to the mountains," Gandalf explained. Turning, he looked eastward with his hand shielding the sun. "Had we not diverted to Khazad-dûm, we might have crossed at this very ford."

"We must be cautious," Elrohir said, looking eastward as well. "There are few Men in this region, but many orcs. Especially this close to the Hithaeglir and Casarrondo."

"Mind your swords," Elladan advised, eying both Gandalf and Frodo whose weapons glowed eerily when orcs were near.

Elrond frowned for a moment and listened, then he smiled. "Do you hear? The laughter of children. Perhaps there is yet a settlement of Men brave enough to live so close to the Black Pit."

"It warms my heart to hear it," Frodo murmured, nodding. "I thought I should never..." Sam approached and took his master's hand as he faltered.

"What sort of Men _do_ live in this region?" Merry asked, looking around the green swards and rolling grasslands.

"This is northern Dunland," Celeborn supplied. "Perhaps the children we hear are with a traveling group, for I am unaware that the Dunlendings have settled this far north."

As they speculated on the culture of the children's family, it became clear that they were coming closer. One voice clearly carried on the still autumn air.

"You ain't s'posed to keep findin' hidin' places, Ilsa!" A young girl's giggle followed the boy's admonishment.

Gandalf chuckled. "Such innocence, after much grief."

"It is good to hear," Galadriel agreed.

Sam started with alarm, staring at Frodo's sword. "Mister Frodo! Look!"

Unsheathing Sting, Frodo was shocked to see how strongly and brightly it glowed, even in the glare of the afternoon sun. Gandalf drew Glamdring, also radiating an ominous blue.

Elrond's sons and the other hobbits armed themselves. Galadriel looked stricken.

"Those children!" she cried. "We must reach them before... This way!" The elf woman darted in the direction she was certain the voices had come from. Celeborn followed in her wake.

Barely a word was spoken between Elrohir and Elladan. They had been here before, and through hand gestures conveyed a swift plan. They parted and headed in opposite directions, hoping to locate the enemy and defeat it quickly. Elrond, Gandalf, and the hobbits followed the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien.

The woods were thick here, approaching the mountains, but soon a small empty clearing opened up. Galadriel looked around desperately, listening. Celeborn and the rest of the travelers halted around her. The brothers arrived soon after, shaking their heads.

Quite suddenly, the bushes shook on the opposite side of the clearing, and a tiny figure burst out, laughing. Her momentum carried her straight into Galadriel.

The group froze, blinking in shock. The little girl, barely two years old by the look of her, was nothing like anything they'd seen. Her smooth, brown face split in a grin when she looked into the beautiful elven face. Large yellow eyes gazed up with innocence and trust. Her small pointed ears pricked with interest.

"Oh...," Galadriel breathed.

The orc child raised a hand and pointed a clawed finger at Galadriel. "You pretty."

The bushes off to their left parted violently and another figure leaped at the girl, grabbing her shoulders.

"Got you!" he cried, then he, too, froze.

All around, it seemed, were whiteskins with swords. His wide yellow eyes scanned the group, and he shook all over.

"Ilsa," he rasped hoarsely, weakly pushing the girl behind him. "Go home, Ilsa. Now. Run home. Go." Tears poured down his face and his lips trembled. Ilsa seemed to catch his fear, and did as she was told. In moments, she'd disappeared into the woods.

_I am going to die_, he realized with perfect clarity. He tightened his stomach to keep the sobbing at bay. _But I am Fighting Uruk-hai. I will be brave._

Still, his entire body shook with terror.

"Are there more of you?" Elrohir said evenly.

"No," the young orc replied, his voice high-pitched from fear. He shook his head vigorously. "It's just me. I'm the only one. There ain't no more. Just me."

"You lie," Elladan growled, approaching the terrified orc and pressing the tip of his sword to its throat. "Lead us to the others."

"My sons," Elrond said quietly, laying a restraining hand on Elladan's shoulder. "This is a _child_."

"They do not remain children forever," Elrohir said. "Come, beast. Take us to your elders."

The orc shook his head. "Ain't no others. Just me."

Frodo stepped forward, sheathing his sword. He stood eye-to-eye with the small orc, and searched its face. "I have seen quite enough of war, I think. He is doing no harm." Turning to the elves, he said quietly, "Just... leave him be."

Merry came closer and really looked at the young orc. "I... don't believe it. This is... this is an Uruk." He looked up at Gandalf for confirmation. "They're just... different. Not quite..." His gaze returned to the orc. "Not entirely like orcs."

"Are you one of the Uruk-hai of Isengard?" Gandalf asked quietly.

As the hobbits and the wizard closed in, the orc's shaking increased, but he did not retreat. He kept his hands clenched at his sides and squeezed his eyes shut. To his shame, his gut let go, and the sobs broke out. The sound of the orc's pitiful weeping filled the silence in the clearing. Yet he stood his ground.

Galadriel gently parted the group and quietly urged them to step back. Kneeling before the orc, she looked up at his streaming face. "What is your name, child?"

His eyes blinked open, and he gazed at her flawless face through bleary eyes. "Ruh-Razkaar," he replied automatically.

"Razkaar," she repeated. "Please tell the truth. Are you the only one, or are there others? You seem too young to be alone."

Her soft voice and gentle manner lulled him, and he seemed slightly less frightened. "Please don't kill'em," he whimpered.

"We will not, if they do not threaten us," she said. "If they do no harm..."

"Ain't hurtin' nobody," Razkaar insisted thickly.

"May we meet your folk?" she asked softly. "So that we may be assured that... they are not hurting anyone?"

He stared at her for several long seconds. "I take you to'em, you'll kill'em. 'S'what whiteskins do."

"You have my word," Frodo said solemnly. His own eyes held the same terrified determination only six months past. Staring death in the face, knowing that if he failed, many would suffer. Was this orc's intention to sacrifice himself for the sake of his own clan less worthy than Frodo's determination to destroy the Ring for the sake of the world?

Turning to the elves, the Ringbearer said, "Put your swords away. We have nothing to fear."

* * *

><p>"Oh, Jesus," Sandy grumbled at the campfire, struggling to stand. Once down, it seemed to require a small army to get her back up. And the pot was boiling over. "Will someone <em>please<em> bring that damn water? Dinner's getting _ruined_ here!"

"Madam?"

Had she not been big as a barn, Sandy would have whirled at the unfamiliar voice. As it was, she felt as hard to steer as a bus. Shifting around, she saw Razkaar... and ten strangers. One of the people had a hold of the terrified Uruk by the arm.

Suddenly feeling a massive attack of she-bear protectiveness, she lurched to her feet and waddled angrily across the clearing, rolling up her sleeves. "Let him go!" she snarled. "Don't _make_ me bust out a can of whoop-ass." Then her eyes widened. At least half of these people were familiar, if only from a story she'd read long ago...

One of the dark-haired elves released Razkaar and he bolted to Sandy. She embraced him and held his sobbing form, checking him over to make sure he was all right. She was about to speak when Brie struggled up the path from the river with a large pot full of water.

"Sorry," she quickly apologized, heading for the tripod over the fire without noticing the group at one end of the clearing. "Ghru's on the warpath. Just a warning. I..." As she turned, the grin on her face slid off, and she stared in fearful silence at the visitors. "Who...?"

Heavy footsteps thundered up the path, then the soaking wet figure of a huge Uruk broke cover. Seeing Brie, he roared and charged. Elladan and Elrohir were quick to raise their swords and take a few steps forward, but Gandalf held out an arm to stop them.

The scarred Uruk had grabbed Brie about the waist and clamped his mouth over her neck, holding her with what was unmistakably a grin on his face. Rather than scream, she batted his hands away with annoyance, and he immediately released her.

Seeing the elves, Ghru's lip curled menacingly and he growled. Then his gaze fell on Gandalf. For a moment, he stared in shock, his breath gasping out. Then an even more threatening glower crossed his face, and he interposed himself between the visitors and Brie. "_Sharkû_," he snarled.

Before the wizard could respond, another Uruk just as tall and imposing entered the clearing by the same path. He was laughing, his orcish features softened by good-natured mirth. "Brie, you _will_ pay for pitching your mate in the river. You'll never outrun him. Best get it over with."

The look of surprise on the newcomer's face when he beheld the visitors was almost comical. Like the other one, he showed far more hostility toward Gandalf than the elves. Striding swiftly across the clearing, he shielded Sandy and the trembling Razkaar from them and glared at the wizard.

"How did you find us?" Morkoth snarled.

"I think...," Sandy ventured, dislodging the runt from her side and trying to step around the big Uruk, "there's been... I mean... this isn't Saruman..."

"Don't let his filth near you," the tall Uruk growled. "I do not even want him _touching_ you."

"The lady is correct," the wizard said. "I am _not_ Saruman. I am not your former master." The glittering yellow eyes of the two giant Uruks didn't look the least bit convinced.

"Where's Ilsa?" Brie suddenly said, her eyes darting around.

"Don't know," Razkaar whimpered, now cleaved to her. "Told her to go home. She ain't here?"

Seemingly in answer to their worry, Nûrzgrat came storming into the clearing, Frû in his wake holding the little girl in his arms, Thakûf trailing along behind looking frightened.

"What the _fuck_ is this about?" Nûrzgrat roared, grabbing a sword on his way to the cluster of people at one end of the clearing. "How far we gotta fucking run? Whatta we gotta fucking _do_ to make you sons of whores stop comin' after us?" His fierce yellow eyes found Gandalf and his face contorted with rage. "_You_!"

The clearing erupted in chaos as Morkoth and Ghru tried to shield their mates and defend their leader at the same time. Razkaar and Thakûf dove for cover in one of the nearby huts, and Frû backpedaled out of the danger zone, holding Ilsa tightly to his chest.

Elrohir and Elladan would have launched into the fray immediately had both Elrond and Celeborn not held them back. The hobbits formed a protective semi-circle between Galadriel and the enraged Uruk-hai.

Gandalf raised his staff and roared, "Enough!" His voice echoed off the rock walls at the back of the clearing. "Look to the lady!" he cried.

Morkoth whirled around and immediately cradled Sandy in his arms. The jostling at the front had knocked her almost off her feet, and she swayed dangerously. The huge Uruk changed from furious to gentle, easing Sandy to the ground where he knelt by her side.

"Are you well? Did I... did I harm you?"

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "Just a little... dizzy."

Brie went to her friend's side and checked her forehead. "You need to go lie down."

"I'm _fine_," Sandy groused. Batting their hands away, she leaned forward and looked up at the wizard. "You're Gandalf, aren't you?"

"Gandalf?" Nûrzgrat said incredulously, then stared hard at the wizard.

"You are not... our Master? Truly?" Ghru asked.

"No, he ain't," the Uruk leader said, taking an uncertain, wary step back. "This here's the wizard that _beat_ our Master."

"Might I ask who _you_ are?" Gandalf said.

"Ghrulagûrz," the tall Uruk replied, holding his head up. "This is my _mate_, Brianna." His tone and expression defied them to comment on it.

"I am Morkoth, and Sandy is _mine_,' the other said fiercely. He covered her rounded belly with one clawed hand protectively and possessively.

The older elves looked away, trying to politely mask their distaste. Neither of Elrond's sons made any effort to hide their looks of disgust.

He'd almost calmed down, until he saw the looks. Face twitching, Nûrzgrat snarled, "Get the fuck outta here. All of you. Leave us be. We ain't hurtin' nobody. All we want is some fuckin' peace."

"I've not heard of an orc that did no harm," Elrohir snapped. "Likely the hurts these women received at your hands are well-hid." Grimacing at Sandy, he snarled, "It is clear what torments _you_ have already endured."

"Mind your own fucking affairs, _golug_!" the Uruk leader bellowed, thrusting an arm out to block Morkoth's infuriated advance.

"That is quite enough," Elrond soothed, shooting his son a stern look. "It is clear you are all... somewhat... peaceful... creatures."

"You pull them swords out again, you'll see some orcs," Nûrzgrat growled. "Try takin' our females away, _then_ you'll see some fuckin' orcs."

"It's okay, Nûrzgrat," Sandy said wearily. "There's no reason... to be rude."

"Hold," Gandalf said. "You are Nûrzgrat?"

The leader narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "That's me. What about it?"

Frodo stepped forward. He'd not drawn his sword during the tense moments earlier. "I did not think to meet you, but I hoped..."

"How d'you know _me_?" the Uruk leader asked.

"A Rider of Rohan spoke highly of you when we were in Edoras not long ago," Gandalf said, smiling. "Haelm of the Westfold."

"Are you serious?" Brie cried, rising to her feet. "Did they make it? All of them?"

The wizard soon found himself nearly engulfed by the Uruk-hai and women, clamoring for information about the villagers they'd helped so many months ago. Frû hastily joined the group, begging for word of their fate. Elladan and Elrohir almost attacked the orcs again, but for Elrond's prohibitive expression.

"Be still, please!" Gandalf cried, holding up his hands. "Haelm told any who would listen the tale of Uruk-hai who defied all expectation and saved a village of defenseless women and children." His eyes twinkled. "They were led by the honorable and respected Nûrzgrat." Smiling, the wizard bowed.

"_This_ is the same orc?" Elrohir asked incredulously, lowering his sword.

Now all the hobbits gathered around the Uruk leader, smiling up at him.

"I can't tell you what it meant to the king of Rohan to hear of your deeds," Merry said sincerely.

"Indeed," Galadriel said, a smile on her face. "Such selfless acts by you and your folk... toward those you called enemy not long before."

Nûrzgrat was struck speechless, eyes blinking rapidly as they flicked from one beaming face to another. He was too numb with shock to register Brie's arm around his waist for a few moments. The relative calm seemed to coax the younger Uruks out of hiding as well. Raz and Thakûf joined them, though still hanging back out of reach of the elves.

"So... they made it to the next village?" Brie asked.

"Yes, they did," Gandalf replied. "Led by Haelm and Merol, they reached another village and warned the people there of marauding bands of Dunlendings in the border area. Their arrival gave those folk ample time to prepare, for a week afterward there was a raid on _that_ village as well. You needn't fear! None were lost. They were able to repel the attack."

"Your actions saved not one but two villages," Celeborn informed them.

"Where's this village?" Frû asked, and Sandy shot him a warning look. Curling his lip in a snarl, he backed off.

"Okay," Sandy said, "so... which one of you guys is Frodo?"

"That is me," Frodo acknowledged with slight embarrassment. "How do you know _me_?"

Nûrzgrat drew a shuddering breath. "You're... Frodo?" At the hobbit's uncertain nod, he approached and dropped weakly to one knee. "It was _you_, wasn't it? You're the one that did it."

Alarmed, Frodo looked around. Every harsh, orcish face seemed to smooth.

"I got no words," Nûrzgrat said awkwardly, bowing his head. "You freed us. What you did... was more'n just savin' this lot." He gestured vaguely toward the elves and hobbits. "You cut the last thread bindin' us to the Shadow."

"Because of you," Morkoth said brokenly, "my child will not know enslavement or darkness. You have done a good thing for all... all of us." Ducking his head, the tall Uruk fought to master himself. Sandy held him close and pressed her head to his shoulder.

Frodo was startled by a tug on his sleeve. An Uruk a bit larger than Razkaar looked hopefully at him. "Are you a wizard? Can you... can you make me..." Thakûf held his clawed hands up to show the hobbit. "Can you make me a Man?"

The hobbit did not know what to say. How could they be so deceived? "I... it was not... me... I..."

"Mister Frodo, it _was_ you," Sam said gently, putting a comforting hand on his master's shoulder. "Saw it with my own eyes, I did. You shouldn't oughta deny it."

"But... I _didn't_... I _failed_..."

"Frodo," Sandy said, "you didn't fail. You had the strength to bring the Ring to Mount Doom. You had the courage to go to Mordor, face all the horrors of that land, and scale the mountain."

"But... at the end...," he insisted.

"Boy," Nûrzgrat said gruffly, "Sandy's told us your story. Maybe it was hard. Maybe at the end, things weren't lookin' so good, but..." The Uruk clenched his jaw and paused, swallowing hard. "But when you could've done what any of _this_ lot would do, you didn't. Somethin'... ugly... foul... and cursed... You spared it. Cause you did _that_... you saved the fuckin' world."

"How do you know?" Frodo asked, moved nearly to tears by the Uruk's clear admiration and gratitude.

"That," Sandy said with a sigh, "is a long damn story."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** The fun and mayhem continues in _Hookup of Epic Proportions!_

**Hithaeglir** = Sindarin for Mountains of Mist, or the Misty Mountains

**Casarrondo** = Sindarin for Moria


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